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‘’(l , 



CURRENTS AND 
UNDERCURRENTS 

LIFE AS WE SEE IT TO-DAY 


BY ^ 

SARA ELIZABETH BROWNE 

r 


I go for all sharing the privileges of government who 
assist in bearing its burdens, by no means excluding 
woman. 

Abraham Lincoln. 

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THE . ,, 



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PUBLISHERS 

114 

FIFTH AVENUE 


XonDon new York /iRontreal 


oZ'im'2^ 



THF LiSnARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

X «o Cf'P'trt RtCElVEO 

iijN. 6 1902 

nCOPYRIOHT ENTRY 

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CLASS CCt xXb. No, 
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COPY B. 


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Copyright, 1902, 
by 

THE 

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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Description. — Rena and Bounce. — Conversation. — Acci- 
dent. — Herbert Langley. — Discussion. — Sam Trotter’s 
Family. — Philosophy. — Religion. — Rena and Bounce 
Visit the Merwins. — Tom 11 

CHAPTER II. 

Invalid Recovering. — Farmers’ Wives. — Change.— Invalid 
goes home. — Mental Unrest. — Tom leaves Home. — 


Calls upon Langley. — Reveries 30 

CHAPTER III. 

Margaret Stanley. — Why She is 111. — Goes to New York. 

— Margaret at a Reception. — Meets Mr. Gordon 40 

CHAPTER IV. 


Margaret’s Reverie.— Gordon Calls on Margaret. — Conver- 


sation.— Astrology. — Theosophy 52 

CHAPTER V. 

Langley and Tom. — Humanitarianism. — Corinne. — A 


Death Scene. — A Poor Man. — Why He Was Ignorant. 61 
CHAPTER VI. 

Beautiful Snow. — Winter Morning. — Breakfast. — Church. 
—Tom.— Rena’s Thoughts and Dream 68 


3 


4 ' 


Contents. 

CHAPTER VII. 


PAGE 

Langley Calls Upon Tom. — They Discuss the Socialist 
Problem. — Difficulties.— Solution 75 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Margaret. — Mrs. Stanley’s Conversation with Her Hus- 
band. — Disagreement. — Margaret and Gordon 87 

CHAPTER IX. 

Corinne’s Reception. — What Is Love ? — Corinne’s Hap- 
piness. — Tom’s Mistake. — Margaret at Home 103 

CHAPTER X. 

Herbert Coming Home at Night. — Woman’s Shrieks. — 
Ruffians. — Rescue. — Removed to Hospital. — Langley 
“Spotted.” — Assault.— Arrest. — Hospital 113 

CHAPTER XI. 

Mr. and Mrs. Stanley’s Conversation. — Thought Tranfer- 
ence. — Hypnotism. — Woman. — Margaret. 121 

CHAPTER XII. 

Growth of Bington. — Andrew. — Gordon Starts to See 
Margaret. — Repents. — Returns. — Mental Telepathy. . . 131 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Tom’s Misery. — He Goes Home to Tell of His Coming 
Marriage. — Scenes. — Rena’s Agony and Self-Control. 


—Tom’s Marriage to Corinne 137 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Andrew. — Mr. Burns and Family. — Growth of Bington. — 
Mental Telepathy.— Rena’s Victory 153 


Contents. 


5 


CHAPTER XV. 

PAGE 

Gordon Goes to Bington. — Meets Uncle Eben. — Sees 
Margaret with Another Man.— Insane Jealousy.— Goes 
Home and Starts for Africa. — Uriel Brice. — His 
Mother I59 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Herbert Langley.— Recovered.— Brice in Pursuit of Mar- 
garet 170 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Amusements, — Festivities. — An Accident. — Margaret on 
Fire. — Rescued. — Her Trip to New York. — Brice Fol- 
lows. — Margaret. — Goes South. — Returns to Bington. 
Episode on the River-bank. — Brice’s Trick. — Mar- 
garet Again Rescued. — All Is Not Fair in Love and 
War. — Sick Child. — They Meet. — Brice Proposes. — 
Margaret Considers. — Accepts 175 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Margaret Married. — Old Feelings Renewed. — Wedding 
Trip. — Home Again. — Uncle Eben. — A Year Passed. — 


Brice’s Happiness 190 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Corinne 111. — Death. — Confession. — Promises. — Tom Visits 
Rena. — Revelation. — Wedding Day Appointed 195 


CHAPTER XX. 

Brice’ s State of Mind. — A New Bookkeeper. — Failure. — 
Villainy. — Brice Gets Business. — Confidential with 
Bookkeeper. — Jealousy. — Plottings. — Arrest. — Coun- 
terplots.— Bribes. — Margaret Suspicious. —Change in 
Home Life. — Retrospection. — Bad News. — Forgot 
Law. — Adventure. — Sickness. — Death 205 


6 


Contents. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

PAGE 

Rena and Tom Married. — Happiness. — Margaret at the 
Langleys’. — Andrew Married. — Margaret Settled in 
New York. — Gordon Returned. — Tells Margaret of 
His Love.— His Adventures. — A Drive. — Occultism. . . 216 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Mr. Gordon Impatient.— Margaret Makes Difficulties. — 
Discussion of Ways and Means. — Wedding. — Travel. 

— Home. — Children. — Happiness and Harmony 228 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Mrs. Benton and Flora. — Mrs. Benton 111. — Herbert 
Comes. — Mrs. Benton Falls Asleep. — Murmurs Her 
Love. — Awakes in Convulsions. — Death. — Flora Goes 
to the Langleys’. — Herbert Proposes. — Family Bless- 
ing. — Tom and Rena in Their Home. — Herbert and 
Flora Married. — Tom and Rena Find the Cave with 
Little Corinne 237 


PEEFACE. 


The principal purpose of the story set forth in the 
following pages is to indicate the hidden springs of 
emotion by which the human race is swayed, particular- 
ly in the realm of the affections where so much of joy 
and sorrow abides. Written in the leisure moments 
of a busy life, the narrative has grown out of the pro- 
fessional experience of Mental Healing, and has been 
gathered from the minds of those who have made me 
the recipient of personal confidences too sacred to be 
exposed, and yet too important to be lost to the world. 

I have endeavored by a presentation of the theory of 
thought transference, hypnotic suggestion and the con- 
tinual infiuence of mind over mind, to explain the trite 
saying, ‘The course of true love never runs smooth,” 
and to indicate the path of safety and ultimate happi- 
ness to those distracted souls who are torn by conflict- 
ing emotions and tormented by the ebb and flow of 
depressing thoughts which are reflections from other 
minds, and are not their own. The name of these 
sufferers are legion; the tears they shed and the groans 
they utter in secret, nursing their woe as something 
they feel but do not understand, call for aid; to their 
call I have in these pages endeavored to respond, point- 
ing out cause and consequence, and trying to throw 
such light upon the darkness as shall make it less diffi- 

7 


8 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


cult for those who tread the paths of sorrow and less 
perilous for those who wield a power they do not 
understand. 

I have spared no pains to substantiate my own knowl- 
edge and experience by others in Medical, as well as 
Mental lines, and am sure if people would study psychic 
law, it would greatly enhance human happiness. 
Hitherto, the Scientists, even those members of so- 
cieties for the investigation of phenomena in this line, 
have not turned, to the ‘^inner light^ but have used such 
methods as they would to test a piece of machinery. 
They have tried to get material tests of a spiritual 
condition. The most I could do in this work is to give 
hints and suggestions for the reader to work out. 

Hypnotism, as I understand it, is a dominance of 
one mind over another, either consciously or uncon- 
sciously, through suggestion, which means a desire in 
one mind, either conscious or unconscious, that over- 
powers desire in the other mind by force of will only. 
Mental Scientists use suggestion through the power 
of Eeason, sometimes but not necessarily, enforced by 
will; the patient in this case being educated before 
he is healed, and who succumbs to the other mind 
because he sees the reason why, and not because he 
must. 

As to the question of Woman’s status in society, any 
one who has read John Stuart Mill’s ^^Subjection of 
Woman” will not need the little I have shown here, 
and will not think me partial on the side of woman. 

This story has a purpose, else it would not have been 
written; no other especial merit is claimed for it. It 


Preface, 


9 


is the story of lives that have been, are, and will he 
lived, with varying detail, by thousands and tens of 
thousands in this broad land of ours; a story of every- 
day people, told in common phrase. My ambition is 
satisfied^ if the book helps even in small degree to bring 
about a healthier and happier equilibrium between the 
sexes. If it fail to do this, the fault is in the method 
of sowing the seed, and not in the nature of the seed 
that is sown, for there is abiding truth in these thoughts 
I give to the world. This Truth is mighty and will 
prevail. 


THE AUTHOE. 



CUEEENTS AND UNDEECUEEENTS. 


1 

CHAPTEE I. 

Description— Rena and Bounce— Conversation— Accident. 
—Herbert Langley.— Discussion.— Sam Trotter’s Family. 
—Philosopsy.— Religion.— Rena and Bounce Visit the 
Merwins.— Tom. 

In' a remote country town in the wilds of New Hamp- 
shire, there nestled a quiet pastoral valley where the 
verdure was of deepest emerald hue, the fields wavy 
with grain and the silken grasses that must ere long 
yield their beauty and luxuriance to the cruel scythe 
of the stalwart mower. The sky had cleared but the 
trees were yet dripping from a recent shower. Here sat 
a cosy farmhouse: its white sides glistened in the sun, 
and its sloping roof ran down almost within reach of a 
tall man^s hand. A house sheltered under the shade of 
a lofty mountain which towered in all its grandeur 
toward high heaven, giving majestic beauty to the 
gloriously blue sky and floating, fleecy clouds. 

A trim piazza ran across the front of the house, and 
the fragrant honeysuckle and the broad cool leaves of a 
grape vine loaded with fruit, made a delightfully shady 
and comfortable retreat from the bright afternoon sun. 


12 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


A hen with her brood of tiny chicks, scratched and 
clucked, and struggled with her motherly fears lest 
her downy brood should go unfed. The turkey gobbler 
strutted in his masculine pride; and, perched upon the 
well-sweep sat a pair of cooing doves talking over their 
family affairs with busy eagerness; while that placid 
evidence of perpetual motion, a cow, stood calmly chew- 
ing her cud in the shade of an apple tree; the sleek colt 
browsing patiently in the hot sun the while. 

Inside the house all was quiet; the good mother sat 
by the window mending her husband’s socks, with the 
family cat purring contendedly at her feet and the 
busy flies buzzing about her patient and gentle face. 
The father and his bronzed and manly son were in the 
fields hoeing, and the eldest daughter sat with her work, 
under the vines of the shady piazza, as quiet, and yet as 
busy as all nature around her. 

Presently there came an elfin shout, and a curly head 
with a hat on the back of its neck, peered around the 
corner of the house, betokening the appearance of the 
pet of the family; and the wagging of an equally curly 
tail at her side, betrayed the 'faithful but frisky family 
pet. Bounce, who aided and abetted his young mistress 
in all her frolics and escapades. 

He was a roly-poly fellow with a curly white Body and 
tail, with here and there a brown spot, and the softest 
brown head and silkiest ears one often sees; while his 
human-looking eyes sparkled with fun or gazed with 
fond faithfulness at his merry, young mistress. 

But as she removes her hat and steps upon the 
piazza, let us try to describe her. She was short and 


Description of the Farm. 13 

slight with firm muscles, plump and rounded figure, 
free and easy carriage, hardy and strong, but with a 
delicate grace and refinement born of the sky, the 
mountains and the tender beauty of nature in which 
she had grown; she was the incarnation of life and 
health. The golden hair that was brushed back from 
her face in moist rings and waves, the sparkling eyes, 
patterns of the ethereal blue of .summer skies, the soft 
cheek that was too transparent to be tanned by the 
fiercest rays old Sol could cast at her, the cunning 
dimples that dented her cheeks and chin, the pearly 
teeth and red-ripe lips, made a picture deliciously 
fascinating. 

^^Well my child,^^ said the good mother, ^Vhat have 
you and Bounce been up to now ? I should think you 
would be melted in this hot sun, and I really believe 
you have been running, too, and in such weather! Do 
sit down and get cool. Why donT you stay in the 
house when it is so hot?” 

^^Oh mother mine, you know I never mind the heat. 
Bounce and I like it; he thought he was going to get 
here first and I had to run for it to beat him, didn’t 
I Bounce?” And she stroked his silken ears fondly. 
^^But really, it isn’t so very warm, and we wanted to 
find the cave Uncle Tobias told about when he was 
here last; I really could not wait any longer, I wanted 
to see it so much. To think I have lived here seven- 
teen years and did not know there was a cave with a 
romance attached to it. Bounce and I hunted and 
hunted but we could not find it, and I am afraid we 
shall have to wait till Uncle Tobias comes again before 


14 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


we can explore it. I found the tree he described — or 
I thought I did, — ^but after that I walked ten paces in 
every direction and could see nothing but ordinary 
rocks and things, not a shadow of an entrance any- 
where; I could not roll away any of the big stones to 
look behind them, so at last I gave it up ; but I^m going 
to see it yet, and the dismal cave where those lovers 
were shut in and — oh, all of the rest of it. Do tell it 
to me again, mother dear, I have partly forgotten; 
anyway, I want to hear the thrilling part. Do you re- 
member it too? Why didn’t you tell me about it, it 
is too bad.” 

‘^Why child, I had forgotten all about it, and then, if 
I hadn’t, you would have been sure to climb the moun- 
tain from bottom to top until you found it, and I don’t 
like to have you off alone so much. Who knows what 
you will meet on the mountain; there are snakes there, 
and you might fall and get hurt and no one would 
know where to find you.” 

“Oh pshaw ! Mamma, Bounce would kill the snakes, 
and if anything happened to me he would come and 
tell you and take you back to me. I’m not the least 
bit afraid and I must find the cave. I should like it 
if I had a man to go with me, but Andrew and father 
are always busy, and so is -every one else about here 
but me; what a renegade I am mother! Well, never 
mind dear. I’ll sow my wild cats some day, I suppose, 
and sit down to my mending as calmly as Margaret 
does now, but it seems a long way off.” 

"Margaret, did yon use to romp about as I do ? I 
never remember you any way but calm and quiet. I 


Description of the Farm. 

should just fly into pieces to be so; I wonder if I ever 
will be?” 

don’t know, Rena/’ said her sister, ^^you know 
when I was your age there were all the other children 
to look after and the work to do, and I was the oldest 
and mother not strong; I had to help her and there 
was no time for romping, but, by the time you came, 
the others were grown and most of them away; you 
were the baby and had nothing to hinder you from 
growing up your own way. You know father was not 
well off then as he is now, and we all had to work to 
help pay for the farm and make a home for him and 
mother. We have been prospered, haven’t we mother? 
The place is free from debt, thank God, and you are 
likely to spend your last days in comfort if your earlier 
ones were hard. But who is that ? There seems to be 
something the matter. Why, the horse has fallen!” 

In a twinkling. Bounce and his mistress were off 
down the road where a horse had fallen, and lay with 
his rider prostrate in the dust. Before she had reached 
them, the horse had struggled to his feet and stood 
gazing at his master, who was less fortunate, for the 
horse had fallen upon him and crushed his foot, and he 
had fainted and lay with his face upturned to the sun 
and his dark locks mingled with the dust of the road. 

In a moment the girl knelt beside him, lifting his 
head in her lap; with her handkerchief she carefully 
brushed the dust from his face and hair marveling to 
see how handsome and strong he was, and yet so 
helpless. 

Margaret had run for her father and brother, who, 


1 6 Currents and Undercurrents. 

lifting the unconscious man carefully, bore him to the 
house, while Eena led the noble hut unfortunate horse 
as he limped painfully to the stables, and left him in 
care of the hired man who had just come from the lot. 
By some rare good fortune, the village doctor was driv- 
ing by and was called in. He skillfully dressed the 
wounded foot, helped to get the patient to bed in the 
old fashioned but cosy spare room, watched his return 
to consciousness, and then left him with a cooling 
draught, directions for quiet, and a promise to call 
next day. 

Days and weeks passed, and still that obstinate foot 
refused to get well; whether because of the pleasant 
surroundings and agreeable nurse, or because it had 
been badly crushed and must have time to heal, his- 
tory does not say. 

To say the patient was impatient, was rather more 
than strictly true; for after the first sharp disappoint- 
ment when he found he could not keep the business 
engagement he had started upon, he succumbed to the 
inevitable with good grace, and, saving the regret he 
felt at giving so much trouble to his kind entertainers, 
he bore his pain and seclusion with remarkable equa- 
nimity. Naturally it fell to the lot of Rena to wait 
upon and entertain him, as household cares kept Mar- 
garet and Mrs. Stanley busy. 

Herbert Langley was a man of twenty-five years, of 
good birth and education. His father was a large 
mill owner in a neighboring town, and all that money, 
intelligent and sensible ideas could do, had been done 
to fit Herbert, his only son, for a useful and success- 


Description of the Farm. 17 

ful life. His college course was passed with high 
honors, for he was a worker and conscientious. He 
entered with zest into his father^s business affairs and 
was most active and efficient, as well as humane and 
charitable to the employees. This was the first rest he 
had taken since he had graduated, for his vigorous 
health did not require it, and his interests and pleasure 
were there. Under the care of the good physician he 
was soon relieved of his pain, and the time passed in 
waiting for the tardy healing was anything but irksome. 

To Eena this was a new experience. An adventure 
had really come. She had lived under the shadow of 
the everlasting hills, seeing few people, and caring for 
none of the men she had met. In fact. Bounce was 
her dearest male friend, and she had no especial 
thought or care for any other. 

To be in constant attendance on a man of such cul- 
ture and refinement and of such noble and gentle 
qualities, was an awakener to her slumbering mind. 

Her education had been limited as far as schools 
go. She had studied the sky, the mountains, animal 
life and nature in every form, but few books; she 
had read to be sure, and her divine instinct had 
chosen for her only pure and ennobling books. She 
had been taught the rudiments of education at the 
village school, and with the example of her mother, 
who was the daughter of a clergyman in a country 
town, and one of God^s nobility, she had grown like 
the daisies, towards God; with their pure white faces 
and golden hearts. 

Five weeks had elapsed: Mr. Langley had been 


1 8 Currents and Undercurrents. 

drawn out on the piazza in a big chair and was reading 
to the ladies, who had gathered around him with their 
sewing, for the afternoon rest. Eena in a simple white 
dress with a hit of lace and a blue ribbon at its open 
throat, sat on a low footstool arranging a bunch of 
bright-eyed daisies and occasionally patting the head 
of Bounce, who lay at her side lolling out his tongue 
and panting with the heat. 

He was reading Tennyson’s ^Trincess” and they fell 
into a discussion of the theme of woman’s place in 
life; and the now common socialistic theories of the 
day, which to these quiet women, shut in from the 
stir and business of life, was a new and absorbing 
subject. 

“Why, to be sure,” said Mrs. Stanley, “some women’s 
lives do seem to be hard, with not even the butter and 
egg money to call their own; and with all the work and 
no pay except the clothes they wear and what they 
eat, it is a slave’s life from year to year. 

“There’s Sam Trotters, he is so economical, he sells^ 
all the butter and eggs, because he says he can’t afford 
to feed his wife and young-ones on such living; bread 
and milk, and pork and potatoes are good enough for 
them. Why, I don’t suppose his children ever saw 
cake in their house; but Sam says, ^men who work hard 
must have meat and substantial things to eat,’ and then 
it looks kinder mean for a man not to feed his help well, 
and neighbors will talk about it. A man must keep 
up a good name or he can’t git help, and the crops 
must be harvested, and he can’t do it alone of course. 
So he keeps two men to help, ’cause he ain’t very 


19 


Description of the Farm. 

strong; his back is lame, too, and he can only do some 
of the light work. But his wife, who isn’t bigger’n a 
minute, and only weighs ninety pounds, has to cook 
separate meals for three men, and of the best too, and 
then fry pork and johnny-cakes for herself and the 
children, and there’s five of them. 

^Then she does all the other work and takes care 
of the milk of five cows, and makes butter for the men 
folks, and then, dear me, what a time she has to get 
clothes for herself and the children; it is too bad! 
She needs her rights sure enough. 

^^But now with me, I have all the rights I want, just 
as much as Eben has of everything; and I say that of 
him, he never refused me anything I asked him and I 
never asked him for anything I did not know he could 
afford to give me. But sure enough, I’m an exception 
when you come to think of it, after looking around 
among the neighbors.” 

^^Yes, indeed, Mrs. Stanley, you certainly are an ex- 
ception,” said Mr. Langley, ^^and Miss Eena here knows 
very little of the hardships some of our young women 
in the factory suffer, from brutal fathers, husbands 
and brothers even. It seems discouraging sometimes 
to try to help them, but the world looks all awry now- 
a-days; nature, or the natural mind, seems in con- 
vulsion; and, like the child’s house built of blocks, the 
foundations seem to have slipped out of place through 
not having been firmly grounded, and the whole struc- 
ture on the point of toppling over; indeed, the roof 
has already fallen off in some places and it is easy to 
look down to the bottom and see how insecure the 


20 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


foundations are. In fact our system of society is all 
wrong; even the old idea of Deity is assailed, and God 
is no longer a person sitting in judgment and reward- 
ing or punishing his children, as he is pleased or angry 
with their conduct, and it is not so strange that we 
should reject this idea of God, when we consider that 
we did not ask to be put here at all and really did not" 
desire to be, but are compelled to go through with this 
life whether we will or not.’^ 

^^Why, sure enough said Kena, ^Ve didn’t, did we ? 
I never thought of that before, but it explains some 
things that have puzzled me. Do go on Mr. Langley, 
I want to hear more.” 

us illustrate individual life by a leaf blown by 
a strong wind into a stream of water. If the leaf 
could know and express itself it would probably prefer 
the tree; it belongs there, and was supported and 
strengthened by the tree’s juices. There is its home; 
but, along comes a fierce gale of wind, the leaf is rudely 
separated from its source and strikes upon the merci- 
less water which carries it along in spite of itself; for 
a while it has smooth sailing, the sun is bright, the 
banks of the stream are pleasant, and it rather enjoys 
itself, and thinks it does not miss its mother so very 
much; but by and by the stream grows rough, stones 
and rocks impede its way; the leaf is dashed here and 
there, beaten and crushed in this whirlpool and torn in 
another, until it is thrown breathless and gasping on 
the shore or into smooth water again. Was the leaf 
to blame ? Could it stop at any time in its mad career ? 
Or was the gust of wind to blame, or the tree, because 


Description of the Farm. 


11 


Father, and I know he will help me if I try my best, 
and before I know it, that washing is done, and I know 
I could not have done it if I had not asked Him.^’ 

^‘Yon are quite right, you could not; but let us think 
of it. If there is a God, He must know everything. 
He must be able to see your needs when you ask Him, 
and the kind of help you want, or He might help you 
to a tiresome piece of sewing when you wanted to wash. 
So He must see just what you need. How when you 
consider the number of inhabitants there are on the 
earth, to say nothing of those on other planets, it 
would seem to be more than we could expect of any 
personality. To be able to look from any heaven, no 
matter how high or how beautiful, to all the people who 
call upon Him, to say nothing of the animals, the 
flowers and all mineral life. Yes, Life! Everything 
that lives needs God at all times, — all the gases and 
ethers, — for everything that holds together must neces- 
sarily have life. You know also, the God of to-day 
would have much more to do than the God of Bible 
times, and even that time would have kept him pretty 
busy.^^ 

^^But He is all-powerful as well as all-knowing,” 
said Margaret. ^‘He is God, and not man. Oh, of 
course, a man could not do it. You speak of God as 
if he were man.” 

^^Ho, I do not mean to be so understood. I speak of a 
personality and that implies limitations, whether in 
God or man. I do not think God is a personality, but a 
Principle, — Life. It can pervade all things, be every- 
svhere at one and the same time; be all power, all in- 


22 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


it could absorb, and the time for the wind to blow 
strong, and the law of necessity that governs all nature, 
made it necessary to land the leaf on the water just as 
it did; it was not Sin and Punishment, but simply 
Cause and Effect; the leaf had to pass through that 
trial. It was of no more use as a leaf, but had to fulfill 
the law of its existence. Man’s life on earth begins 
with being a little child, with no knowledge of life or 
its uses; in order to learn, it must be put from its 
mother’s arms on the floor; then its desire for action, 
to go somewhere, prompts it to crawl about; by and 
by it pulls itself up, and after a little time can walk, 
and so on through life; only by effort, action, can we 
attain to knowledge; knowledge is the object of life, 
the end and aim of all existence; and remember, it 
cannot be attained without the straining and groaning 
that compels evolution.” 

The surprise with which these words were received 
may well be imagined when we remember the religious 
belief to which these rural people had been educated, 
for though the words were very simple, and adapted to 
their understanding, the ideas were so new and strange, 
it would change the whole current of their being to 
accept them. 

‘^Why!” said Mrs. Stanley, “you cannot mean there 
is no God, no Father, in whom we can trust, who takes 
care of us as he does the sparrows? I cannot believe 
that. I never could get along from day to day if I 
hadn’t that to rest upon. I am frightened to think of 
it even. Why, if I have a big washing to do and it 
seems as if I couldn’t get through it, I ask my Heavenly 


Description of the Farm. 


^^3 


it did not hold firmer to its child? No indeed! Was 
anyone punishing this leaf for sailing down the stream 
of life in such a helpless way?” 

^^Why, of course not,” said Miss Kena. ^^How could 
anyone think so ? The leaf was not punished for what 
it could not help. Why it just couldnT help it and 
that^s all there is about it.” 

‘Then why did it get broken and crushed?” asked 
Mr. Langley. 

“Why, because it hit the rocks to he sure, hut, no, 
that wasnT all; how funny; there must he some reason, 
— hut Bounce and I have not thought it out ; we’ll have 
to take a stroll to-morrow, old boy, and study it over 
on the mountain. That’s my divinity school, Mr. Lang- 
ley, hut why is it ? I want to know what you think.” 

“Why don’t you see, child,” said Mrs. Stanley, “the 
leaf had a free will hut did not exercise it; it did not 
need to go in such rough places if it had looked up to 
God and steered itself right.” 

“Why yes, mother,” said Margaret, “hut then you 
know God foreordained the leaf to go as it did.” 

“But Margaret you must not question God’s ways; 
they are mysterious and past finding out.” 

“Do you not think, Mrs. Stanley,” said Langley, “if 
by looking at it a little we can come to a solution that 
is reasonable, we need not feel it is wrong to look ? And 
I think there is a rational explanation.” 

“We have only to remember that the tree, the leaf, 
and the stream were all governed by law. Divine law, 
which is inexorable. The time for the tree to part with 
the leaf had come; it had taken all the nourishment 


24 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


telligence, all force, all love, all truth, an ever present 
entity, inexhaustible, unchangeable; a never failing 
source from whence we can draw for all our needs. It 
always was, always will be. When you ask God to help 
you to do a piece of work that seems difficult to you, 
you simply put yourself in a position to talce what is^ 
and always has been right at your hand, only you did 
not see it because of your blindness and fear, like the 
child to whom you hold up a bright apple that he 
wants ; he only has to reach out for it, put up his hands 
and take it; but if he is too young and ignorant to 
know he can do this, he fails to get what he wants. 

“When you pray, you only reach out with your 
thought, and whatever you strongly desire is yours; 
but you cannot have it until you feel your need most 
desperately.^^ 

“And so you think there is no Tather in Heaven’ 
upon whom we can call if we are in trouble,” said 
Margaret. “No, I do not think there is a personal 
Father that we can ask. If there was, he could not 
change any of his laws to please any one. If there 
were any such laws, that you should be tired doing 
your washing, he could not change it even for Himself; 
if he could, they would not he laws. Law is unchangea- 
ble. As I see it, no change is necessary. The only 
reason you do not have everything you want, is because 
you do not reach out for it. You do not hnow you can 
have it, therefore do not reach for it with strong enough 
desire. You want it without effort, you wish to get 
it easy. 

“I can send my thoughts any and eveiry where. 


Description of the Farm. 25 

hut not at the same moment; when I think of yon, I 
cannot think of anything else. My thought must 
touch some portion of your mind, and at the instant 
of touch, it can be nowhere else. But God must he 
everywhere and at the same instant to answer all the 
demands made upon him, so it seems to me. He must 
he something more than a personality no matter how 
great or powerful.-’^ 

^^Oh bother! my head is like a whirlpool with your 
talk. Who Tcnows anyway said restless Rena. ^^Come 
Bounce, let^s have a run,^^ and off they went and were 
soon out of sight. This broke up the conversation, 
and Mrs. Stanley and Margaret went to get supper, and 
left Mr. Langley to philosophize to himself. 

There was a long stretch of lawn in front of the 
house before the road was reached, and on the opposite 
side of that was a smooth green meadow, and beyond, 
a view of the river which was so bordered with trees 
and undergrowth that only a small open space was 
visible from the piazza; but farther down the bank of 
the stream was a house, another farm, and thither Rena 
and Bounce, after their frolic, wended their way. 

The sun was getting low and lighted up the hills in 
the distance beyond the river. All nature was in that 
hush that comes in the gloaming just before the God of 
light loses Himself in the unseen. Lower and lower 
it sank and the glow deepened and flamed up, lighting 
all the sky as if with the radiance of its love for the 
quiet scene it was loath to leave, if only for a night. 

Subdued and sobered by its grandeur and beauty, 
Rena with her eyes fixed on the radiant effulgence of 


26 Currents and Undercurrents. 

light, sauntered along, thinking in spite of herself of 
the conversation she had heard. God, she thought, 
what is God and Life what is It? What makes the 
beautiful light in the sky? God I suppose; but, oh, 
how ignorant I am! 

In the midst of her reverie she came in sight of the 
house and of a stalwart young man with a brimming 
pail of milk in either hand, whistling merrily as he 
hurried along. 

‘^Hello Kena! glad to see you. Come in and find 
the girls. You are just in time for supper, too, and if 
you’ll stay, we will have a row on the river. There 
will be a full moon. Ah! here’s Hattie.” 

^^You’re a god-send, Kena. Supper is ready and we 
will have such a nice time. We wanted to go all the 
afternoon but Tom wouldn’t say yes. Now he’ll be 
sure to, for he’ll do anything for you.” 

am sorry I cannot stay, Hattie,” said Rena, ^fi)ut 
I just ran away from their seriousness at home, and 
must get back to our invalid to take him into the house, 
as mother and Madge will be busy. They were talking 
about God, and things, till my head spun like a top try- 
ing to think what they meant. I’m such a ninny any- 
way. It makes me blue to think how little I know and 
am worth in the world.” 

^^Why, Rena! we think you know everything. Tom 
does anyway; do come to supper.” Just then Tom 
made his appearance and added his entreaties to his 
sister’s. 

Tom and Rena had always been playmates and had 
been like brother and sister, but he was getting out of 


27 


Description of the Farm. 

the way of teazing her as he used to, calling her cnrly- 
pate, and Miss Eomp, and on every occasion catching 
her np and perching her on some place too high for her 
to get down without begging him to lift her. 

Kena seemed a hit shy of him, too, once in a while, 
and the old feeling of freedom was gradually being 
replaced by the natural reserve of the young woman. 

She firmly resisted all their entreaties, and declared 
she must go. Her mother would expect her to attend 
to the invalid. Tom’s face clouded a little, but he 
said, ^^Well, if you must go. I’ll walk over with you. 
I’ve never seen your famous invalid, but now that he is 
able to be out, I would like to call upon him.” 

“I am sure he would be glad to see you, but this is 
the first day he has been out on the piazza and I think 
he will hardly feel able to see you to-night, and besides 
you know it is not dark, and anyway, I have Bounce 
for company, and you have not refreshed the inner 
man; your supper waits. Sir. I dare not walk with a 
hungry man. I have heard they’re liable to be cross, 
so I’ll run away by myself now, and in a day or two 
you and the girls come over and see Mr. Langley.” 

^^Thank you,” said Hattie, ^Ve will be glad to; we 
should like to see him.” 

‘^Well, good-bye then.” And with a merry laugh 
and wave of the hand, Eena walked rapidly away. 

For the first time, she was not quite willing Tom 
should walk home with her, but she could not tell why. 
It had always been his habit, and she had been glad 
enough tc have him, but Tom was in his working 
clothes (as he often had been before, and she had not 


28 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


thought anything about it), but she had not been 
awakened to a sense of what clothes mean to us. Mr. 
Langley^s personal appearance had attracted her 
thought in that direction. She had seen only farming 
people who dressed according to their work, and Sun- 
days got themselves into a “dress-up suit” that made 
them feel awkward and constrained, and caused them 
to hail with delight the time to lay them aside and feel 
at ease once more. Mr. Langley’s sense of comfort 
and at homeness when well dressed had impressed her, 
and she was too fond of Tom to he willing he should 
appear at a disadvantage ; besides her own pride rose up 
and made her ashamed, not of Tom, but of his clothes. 
She was by no means so weak and shallow a girl as 
to think the clothes made the man, but she realized 
now that they go far towards making a good im- 
pression, and while she said to herself boldly, that it 
made no difference what Mr. Langley thought, he was 
nothing to her but their guest, yet -she shrank from his 
judgment and had much rather her friends would 
come together in their best attire and make a formal 
call. 

Tom was disgruntled. He did not enjoy his supper 
and the girls thought he was “crosser after supper 
than he was before,” and did not hesitate to tell him 
so in the most sisterly fashion. 

He had been in the habit of thinking Eena belonged 
to him, in a sisterly way, of course, and she had always 
been glad enough to have him walk over with her 
before, and had not been so very thoughtful about his 
supper either. Many a time he had gone over when 


Description of the Farm. 


29 


he was more hungry and tired than he was now, and he 
felt in some dim and undefined way the real reason she 
did not wish him to go. 

He was chagrined, and manlike, cross, and threw 
himself under a tree in a fit of sulks and no persuasion 
would tempt him to the promised row on the river. He 
said he was tired and did not feel like rowing and they 
finally left him alone in disgust. 

Rena hastened home and found her patient all by 
himself, and lost in reverie. 

“Well, Miss Rena, have you gathered your scattered 
wits together and come back sane? I am sorry we 
drifted into such deep subjects; it came about of itself 
somehow. I did not intend to make a preacher of 
myself. One never knows how such conversations do 
come ahout.’^ 

“Oh, I enjoyed what you said very much and am 
sure it must he true, for it somehow agrees with what 
I have always felt but never heard expressed. You see, 
I get my thoughts from the hills, and the sky, and out 
of Bounce’s eyes. Do you know I learn more from him 
sometimes than from human companionship? When 
you understand dogs they can tell you so much. I 
had rather look for God in his eyes than in the Bible 
or any other book, but I never dared say so before. 
They think me quite a heretic anyway. But I think 
dogs know you better than people; they read your 
thoughts some way; in fact, I think the language of 
animals is thought language. They cannot understand 
words, you know, but they feel what you mean.” 


30 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


CHAPTEE II. 

Invalid Recovering.— Farmers’ Wives.— Change.— Invalid 
goes home.— Mental Unrest— Tom leaves Home.— Calls 
upon Langley.— Reveries. 

Time passed quickly and ere long Mr. Langley was 
able to walk, and although he lingered on one pretext 
or another, there finally came a time when he could no 
longer delay his departure. With deepest regret he 
packed his belongings and took his leave. 

From the women who had become so accustomed to 
^^having him around” he took away with himself all 
their sunshine and pleasure. They had not now the 
diversion of his intelligent and interesting conversa- 
tion, his chatty ways, his numerous jokes, and the gen- 
eral magnetism of his presence, and they missed his 
interest in the little household affairs, the helping hand 
he was always so eager to lend, and the endless ways 
he had of easing their cares and burdens in so un- 
obtrusive a way they did not know until he was gone 
what he had really been to them. 

To Margaret and Eena, he had opened a new world 
of thought and ideas. Life meant something different 
to them than it did that day when he was brought to 
their door unconscious; but the pain of parting was 
more acute for all that had come to them through him; 
and as winter, which is always more or less desolate 


The Invalid Recovering. 31 

in the country, set in, the prospect seemed to them 
dreary indeed; for there were few neighbors, and those 
few were now uncongenial after the broader outlook 
and the glimpse of more refined life they had caught. 
The everlasting talk of pigs, chickens, crops, horses, 
cows, and the endless neighborhood gossip, was ex- 
tremely distasteful to them. Eena^s former admirers 
seemed boorish to her and were really unendurable. 
Poor Tom was in despair. For while she was too true 
a woman to discard her old friendships, aside from his 
having such sterling qualities and being the playmate 
of her childhood, she could not overlook his sunburned 
face, hard hands, and the dress suitable to him in his 
surroundings, and though she knew his sturdy heart 
was true and his character noble, the outward appear- 
ance could not be forgotten. 

Tom was a reader and thinker too, and in his un- 
sophisticated way he saw through things pretty clearly, 
and dimly comprehended Eena’s state of mind. In 
some of her moods — for he saw she was very moody — 
she was so like her old self his heart throbbed wildly 
and his hopes ran high, only to be dashed to pieces at 
their next meeting. But he did not blame, because 
he understood her. 

He and his sisters had called upon Mr. Langley before 
his departure and liked his pleasant, manly ways, and 
in his heart of hearts he did not blame Eena for admir- 
ing him; but a deep-seated, yet not unworthy, jealousy 
had taken possession of him and although his nature 
was too generous' and honorable to cherish revengeful 
or vindictive thoughts, he wished Langley had been a 


32 Currents and Undercurrents. 

thousand miles away before he came to interfere with 
his love and his life plans, for he had made plans that 
were now shattered, and he saw that his hopes of a 
quiet farm life must give way to a more active one amid 
busier scenes, or he must lose his inspiration, the pet 
and plaything of his boyhood, and the hopes of his 
manhood, his beloved Kena. This was not to be 
thought of for a moment. He would at least make a 
brave fight for her, whether he liked it or not. The 
bitterness and loneliness of not seeing her, the thought 
that he would be out of sight and so out of mind and 
the sooner forgotten, was pain indeed. But a reso- 
lution once formed was never broken with him, and 
after finding a man to take his place on the farm, and 
overcoming the objections of his father and family, 
he went out into the world to seek his fortune. 

Meantime our hero of the accident had gone home 
and entered into business with renewed zest. His long 
rest and recuperation made him feel no end of vigor 
and fullness of life, and he well understood that a 
large part of this he owed to his kind little nurse and 
the two other devoted women of the household, and to 
the congenial surroundings and quiet restfulness of the 
place, and his gratitude knew no bounds. He had also 
learned much of the habits and manners of a class of 
people with whom he had never before come in con- 
tact — the farmers. 

He had found they were patient, plodding, kind, 
generous, and considerate of others ; some of them deep 
thinkers, and in their own quaint way they reasoned 
out things, in sometimes very original lines. But the 


33 


The Invalid Recovering. 

majority of them were so much occupied with their 
cbily work they were content to let the minister do 
their thinking for them, while they tried to live up 
to his ideas as well as they could without much trouble. 

It is not often that farmers as a class go very far 
wrong. They live in too close proximity to nature. 
The sun, the sky, the trees, the brown earth, animal 
and insect life, the birds and flowers, are all too close 
patterns of man^s highest conception (which is God) 
to leave much room for ungenerous or base conduct. 
And yet how thoughtless and stolid is man, to say noth- 
ing of his selflshness. The man with the kindest 
heart is often led into most heedless and unkind acts 
from mere blind persistence in the old ways of doing 
things. Many a tired farmeris wife can testify to this. 
The horses and cattle must have rest, men too must stop 
work at sundown, but the farmer’s wife must begin 
with the break of day, often keeping on her feet till 
the last dish is washed at night, and then sew or mend 
all the evening to keep the children’s clothes in order 
while the husband smokes his pipe in comfort, and 
gossips with a neighbor. And finally when she is at 
last in bed she must sleep ^Vith one eye open” to tend 
a restless child, while her husband snores comfortably 
beside her. Only God knows the trials of some farmers’ 
wives. With little or no chance for culture or for read- 
ing even the daily papers, no amusement, no recreation, 
with a thoughtless and many times brutal husband, who 
actually never thinhs of her, if she does her work and 
feeds him and the children. Ah me! when we want 
to find martyrs, let us look for them among farmers’, 


34 Currents and Undercurrents. 

wives. It is an actual fact that a common farmer 
whose wife was with child asked her to walk up a hill 
in order that the mare with foal might have less to 
draw. A wife who has more than half the work should 
have half the common earnings. 

What would the farmer’s consternation he if she 
should present her bill like other employees for her 
duties as cook, laundress, housekeeper, and nurse, with 
even no extra charge for childbearing and dying off in 
consequence ? 

Thoughts something like these were running through 
Herbert Langley’s mind one evening as he sat at home 
in the early fall, with a cheerful fire in the grate, a 
shaded lamp on the table, the evening paper and an 
interesting book awaiting his mood of perusal. He had 
donned dressing-gown and slippers, drawn the window 
shades and settled himself for a pleasant evening alone, 
when a peal from the doorbell startled him from his 
reverie, and soon the servant ushered in a young man 
who greeted him with some embarrassment and whom 
he did not at first recognize. The stranger was no 
other than our friend Tom, who, on the strength of the 
slight acquaintance he had with Mr. Langley at Mr. 
Stanley’s, had called for a word of advice as to the best 
way to further his plans for the future; for Tom had 
no ill will for the man he thought had supplanted him; 
on the contrary he really liked him. 

Our friend was a study, and while Mr. Langley 
grasps his hand warmly and bustles about to seat him 
comfortably, let us describe him. He was tall, muscu- 
lar, straight as an Indian, with light blue eyes, an 


The Invalid Recovering. 35 

aquiline nose rather wide at the nostrils, mobile lips 
shaded by a light mustache through which shone his 
strong, white, even teeth, and where an ever ready 
smile always hovered, a broad fair forehead which the 
friendly hat had shielded from the too wanton rays 
of the sun that had bronzed his face and hands, making 
him seem older than his twenty-two years of life would 
warrant, — a man whom you would trust from the first 
glance you had of him and with whom a longer 
acquaintance would bear you out in all the confidence 
you could give him, and upon whom you could stake 
your honor with impunity. His character was as yet 
unformed, but a firm resolve and earnest purpose shone 
through every line of his face, and every curve of his 
manly figure. 

The shade of disappointment that had crossed Lang- 
ley’s face at the unwelcome interruption cleared in- 
stantly as he saw who his visitor was, for of all things 
in the world he would most like to hear from the kind 
friends for whom he had so high a regard, and whom 
he knew Tom must have seen recently. The necessary 
hospitalities disposed of, his first inquiry was for the 
Stanleys. ' . 

‘^Well,” said Tom, was there last night and found 
them all quite well but hardly happy. Do you know, 
Mr. Langley, I think you unsettled the women-folk a 
good deal and they miss you very much; your ideas are 
so different from ours and they, disposed to be thinkers, 
too, you have made a very radical change in their 
thoughts and they get stuck sometimes I guess, trying 
to think out your liberal ideas and put away their old 


36 Currents and Undercurrents. 

ones; and they have no one to ask, for we men-folk 
don’t have much time to look up new ideas and so we 
can’t help them much. I guess they talk it over 
among themselves a good deal, and, to tell you the 
truth, I think it makes them pretty uneasy sometimes. 
It’s pretty much like putting a lot of steers in a pasture 
with a good fence around it. They’ll feed quietly 
enough till they discover a break in the fence, and then 
nothing can keep them there; they’ll go right over all 
fences after that unless you put a blinder over their 
eyes so they can’t see out. I reckon you’ve let those 
women out of the lot and they’re a little inclined to 
find fault with their grazing now. Just as long as 
they thought they had their rights they were contented 
enough, hut since you set them thinking about it thej 
chafe and chafe, and want something, and they don’t 
know what, and couldn’t get it if they did. To he 
frank, Mr. Langley, I am afraid you did them more 
harm than good, as long as they have got to live right 
along in the old way.” 

r. “Oh no, Mr. Merwin, I am sure that knowledge is 
better than ignorance if it does make them uneasy; 
.being contented isn’t all there is in life; it is getting 
Roused, breaking up old lines of thought that makes us 
grow, that rolls the world of life and knowledge on- 
^ward. If they are discontented they will soon com- 
municate their uneasiness to other women who will 
pass it on and stir others and yet others to effort, and 
finally they will get into their true position through this 
means. No, it is better to suffer their discontent and 
fiercely, too, than to sit calmly by and let the world 


The Invalid Recovering. 37 

roll over them and leave them no better off than when 
they came into it. Trogress is the law of nature.^ But 
what makes you think they are not happy?” 

^^Well, perhaps I have put it too strong, for it is only 
by little things I see the signs, but then, it would be 
natural they would miss you when you were there so 
long and right around the house so much. It is not 
strange if Margaret and Rena feel dull and lonesome 
and turn against their friends and their old ways, and 
I think Mrs. Stanley, too, feels, perhaps not for herself 
but for the girls, a bit discouraged. I find them making 
comparisons now, and saying things about men that are 
a bit unkind, and — well — they are a good deal changed 
all around. Perhaps iPs good for them but it isn^t 
agreeable.” 

^^All helpful signs, Mr. Merwin. They must pass 
through that period to rise to a higher plane. Dis- 
satisfaction is the first step in the upward grade. But 
what brings you from home at this season? Are you 
taking a vacation ? I^m glad for the occasion of your 
coming, whatever it may be.” 

^^Yes, Pm taking a long vacation from farm work. 
The fact is, I too, have become unsettled, I guess, for T 
have soured on farm work to a degree that I had to 
come away to seek my fortune, as the stories have it. 
Pve put a man upon the farm in my place and come to 
find work and rub against the world a little harder and 
see what there is in it, and me; and I took the liberty 
to call upon you for a bit of advice. You know I have 
had no business education and I do not know what I 
can do. I felt sure you would not object to giving me 


38 Currents and Undercurrents. 

a little counsel out of your experience. I am not with- 
out money, but am naturally anxious to get to work 
at any honest employment that has a chance for ad- 
vancement in it. It would be rather hard for me to 
shut myself up in the house until I get used to the 
change from home, hut I can do anything that is best.” 
" ^^Now, I^m not sure, Mr. Merwin, hut you are a 
Godsend to us, for we want a shipping clerk that is not 
afraid to work and that we can trust. I am sure you 
will answer to both these requirements, and I think 
you’ll soon get the run of the business and he valuable 
to us. I will speak to my father about it and you come 
to the office to-morrow to see him and I think we 
shall be able to make some kind of an arrangement. 
We have a good deal of trouble sometimes to get trusty 
men, and my father will be sure to give you an op- 
portunity for advancement if you take to the work 
honestly, as I am sure you will.” 

^^Well, Mr. Langley, your suggestion is as pleasant as 
it is unexpected, and I thank you for all you have 
so kindly and generously said about it, and if your 
father takes me, you may be sure I will bear you out 
in all you will say for me, and as much more as an 
honest purpose and earnest endeavor can get out of 
me.” 

“Give us your hand on that, Merwin. I’m sure of 
it, and hope this will be the beginning of a long ac- 
quaintance and friendship.” 

“Thank you again, and now I have trespassed on 
your time too long and will say good-night.” 

“No trespass, my dear fellow, you will come to the 


The Invalid Recovering. 39 

office in the morning any time after nine o’clock. Good 
night.” 

The next morning found Tom promptly on hand, 
and the elder Mr. Langley was so pleased with his 
manly bearing and the reports given him by his son, 
he was only too glad to employ him at a generous 
salary, and the noon hour found him at work with 
the same vigor and heartiness with which he drove a 
plow into the soil in his father’s fields at home. 

His first leisure was employed in writing to his father 
his good fortune, after which he settled down to work 
in good earnest. 


40 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


CHAPTER III. 

Margaret Stanley.— Why She is 111. — Goes to New York. — 
Margaret at a Reception.— Meets Mr. Gordon. 

Maegaeet Stanley was a character well worth atten- 
tion. She was the eldest of the seven children Mrs. 
Stanley had borne, four of whom had blossomed into 
the Beyond in infancy. 

She was tall and lithe, though well developed and 
strong looking, with a round and well balanced head, 
poised gracefully on a sloping pair of shoulders, and 
what would have been the carriage of a queen but for 
the years of farm work. Her silky hair was very 
abundant and black as night ; her dark eyes were gentle 
but firm; her nose long and aquiline; a mouth sensitive 
but full, with a tendency of the lips to curl upwards 
at the corners. She was a woman who would command 
attention anywhere; one who in a drawing room with 
all the accessories of dress and society manners would 
be pronounced superb. As it was, with the self- 
sacrificing life she had led, plenty of hard work, no 
incentive to dress or to make the most of herself, she 
was simply a good looking, commonplace woman, with 
no thought of ever being anything else. She was 
always natural in her manners, with unvarying kind- 
ness to all and ever ready to help those who came within 
the sphere of her influence. 


41 


Margaret Stanley. 

But for her own inner self, her soul existence, if she 
had been asked about it she would have said she had 
none. No thoughts of anything ever entered her mind 
hut getting the dishes washed, the milk skimmed, the 
beds made, and food prepared for the table. Work, 
work, work, was uppermost with her. The demands of 
the family were great, and to hear the brunt of the 
burden and save her mother was her one idea. They 
were a harmonious, affectionate family, very pains- 
taking and thoughtful of one another, putting a deal of 
mental energy in all they did, always planning the 
quickest and best way, and with opportunity would 
have been intellectual and scholarly. 

Eena was the baby, the pet of all, and although the 
do-nothing as yet, she was by nature thoughtful and 
helpful. Her life had been one ovation. Everyone 
loved her and vied with each other to do her bidding, 
and yet it had not spoiled her! She had too much 
character and took all the love and devotion given her 
as the flowers do the sunshine, ever giving as much as 
she received. 

The advent of Mr. Langley in the family had en- 
tirely changed the current of their thought; even Mr. 
Stanley and his son felt the difference. The flrst ^ign 
in Andrew was a new suit of fashionably made clothes 
which he was careful to put on every night when his 
work was done, and in which he respected himself im- 
mensely more than formerly. 

Then he took to reading of a more solid and scientific 
nature. Sometimes he was seen writing, no one knew 
what. He read to his sisters in the evenings and they 


42 Currents and Undercurrents. 

discussed the topics read, he always getting sympathy 
and valuable suggestions from them. He quite forgot 
to attend the merry-makings and parties he used to be 
so fond of, and came to be much of a student and 
recluse. In fact all the minds that had been in such 
an unrestful, yet passive state, were roused and fired 
with some new ambition, and the farm work, though 
honestly attended to, took a secondary place. 

Mr. Stanley had a brother in New York who had 
amassed a fortune as a publisher and was then an 
owner and editor of one of the fiourishing daily 
journals. He was without children, having lost his 
two sons in their boyhood; and his wife, a most sensi- 
ble and cultured woman, was lonely in her elegant home 
and had often urged that one of the brother’s daughters 
should spend part of the time with her. It had never 
been possible until now, but as winter came on Margaret 
drooped; she lost interest in things and complained of 
headaches and was always tired, and nearer to being 
fretful than she had ever been before. 

Such an unusual state of things made the family 
very anxious, and at last the little Eena took the matter 
into her own hands and without consulting anyone, 
wrote to her aunt the situation of affairs. Then she 
proposed Margaret’s going to New York, said she had 
been the useless member of the family long enough and 
she would never learn to do anything for herself as long 
as Madge did it all for her; now her time had come 
and the premises must be vacated by Madge for her 
especial benefit. And when one fine afternoon not 
long after^ in walked Aunt Helen who proposed to take 


43 


Margaret Stanley. 

the invalid home with her, the point was yielded, and 
as the annt insisted that all the preparations necessary 
for her outfit in a city life should he made after her 
arrival because she had nothing else to do but attend 
to it, and Margaret must not be troubled with it now, 
the night of the third day saw them snugly ensconced 
in a sleeper en route for the metropolis. 

This was the beginning of a new life for all. Poor 
Eena, whose love for Margaret was only a little short 
of adoration, and whose dependence upon her made her 
feel actually helpless without her, saw her go with a 
sinking heart. How could she get on without her? 
The work was hard and uninteresting, and she chafed 
under it like a colt under the harness, but she said 
never a word and did her best to fill her sistePs place 
and really succeeded very well, and, in the light of the 
difficulties she had to encounter, very heroically, for 
she realized that to do her whole duty she must keep 
herself cheerful and happy in spite of difficulties. She 
succeeded in mastering the work and herself which 
was the greater task, and the winter passed blithely 
after all, because so busily. 

To analyze the cause of Margaret’s ill health seems 
difficult without an analogy. Let us think of a lake 
on a mountain top that has placidly rippled in the 
sun and winds, evaporating a little each day, and yet 
sufficiently replenished by the steady, sluggish, even 
flow of its hidden source, because the outlet is small 
and restricted. In time the current wears and under- 
mines its channel until, after a heavy storm that floods 
the banks and causes increased pressure, the water 


44 Currents and Undercurrents. 

bursts its bonds and roars and tumbles, coursing wildly 
down the sides of the mountain into the valley below, 
carrying everything before it, until its mad career 
being run, it sinks to rest in the broad bosom of 
mother earth. 

But what of the lake ? It has a new outlet now and 
is no longer pent between its banks or confined there 
at all. A steady stream is always fiowing pure, clear as 
crystal, and strong as only life and motion can make 
it; it is no more a stagnant lake, but an active, health- 
ful stream, ever fresh, sparkling and life-giving. 

So were the placid waters of Margaret’s mind, stirred 
by the new light shed upon her by the influx of ideas 
communicated through Mr. Langley until there came a 
time when she burst away from the old train of thought 
where she had been confined, and in the shock, the 
very foundations of her nature were flooded, and as 
the old errors were swept from sight, and the influx 
of new ideas came upon her, the physical being was 
rent and she was tossed hither and thither, until she 
lay stranded on the rock of physical weakness. Then 
came the steady flow of healthful reasoning thought, 
life giving and strong, which when assimilated was to 
restore her to physical as well as mental vigor. 

But the constant thinking, the doubt on one hand 
and the belief on the other, the tossing to and fro 
of opinion, the effort it required to do her own reason- 
ing, completely exhausted her; she was like a broken 
lily after a storm, and the struggle was so violent it 
took much time to establish healthy action again. 

Meantime, with plenty of leisure — a most unwonted 


45 


Margaret Stanley. 

luxury — and the accessories of dress dear to every 
woman^s heart that her aunt had quietly and bounti- 
fully provided, it being a new and very agreeable oc- 
cupation for her and one which she much enjoyed, 
Margaret was fast recovering. At the same time it left 
her mind at rest (which in her aunt^s opinion was the 
thing she most needed). She knew no woman can feel 
at ease unless her dress is in keeping with her sur- 
roundings. So, almost without Margaret^s being aware 
of it, she placed in her room all the necessaries and 
luxuries of a lady^s toilet, and Margaret in a sort of 
apathetic way carried out her aunt’s ideas with very 
little thought or feeling on the subject. 

Five weeks had elapsed and she had become quite 
accustomed to the new way of life, and it fitted her 
like one of her own soft gloves, and she was calm and 
passive again, hut with a new light in her face, stronger 
but more graceful lines in her figure, and in fact, the 
look of another woman than her former self about 
her. 

The workings of the human mind are wonderful and 
seem mysterious because we lose sight of the fact that 
they are causative, while the physical troubles are only 
an effect. We place too much stress upon the effect 
and undervalue the cause. Margaret’s state of health 
was not, as would seem at first thought, the effect of 
her hard work or any other external cause. It was 
the thorough awakening from the long mental torpor 
in which she had lived to a state of action that re- 
quired all her mental energies, and as a too strong flow 
of water will burst a pipe that would bear ordinary 


46 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


pressure, so, an excess of thought in new channels will 
weaken and disturb the physical life. Time to become 
adjusted to the new state of things was all she required 
to become strong again. She was not sick, she was 
only doing a new kind of work that called out a different 
set of energies. Previously she had trusted to others to 
do her thinking for her and had taken on trust what 
her instinct told her was not in harmony with what she 
saw in nature, and with what came through even her 
limited experience. She was, however, only dimly con- 
scious of this until the awakening came. Henceforth 
she could not use only inherited ideas, could no longer 
be a maternal or paternal storage-room, but as old 
Leibnitz complained of his pupil Frederick the Great, 
she ^Vanted to know the why of the why.’^ 

- After Margaret’s health had time to recover from 
the dazed condition of mind in which she had been, 
she went much into society, and now at the end of four 
months we find her one clear cold night in February, 
dressing for a reception to be given in honor of a newly 
made bride. She entered into society with an honesty 
and zest that was characteristic of her; she dressed for 
an evening entertainment as energetically as she would 
sweep a room, but yet with no haste, one might almost 
say with a repose of motion; for while she put every 
pin into its proper place and fastened every hook or 
button at once and without fuss or hurry, yet she 
lingered lovingly over every fastening and put it in 
place carefully, almost tenderly, giving a little pat 
here and there, and thoroughly enjoying the operation, 
for she would on no account consent to have a maid. 


47 


Margaret Stanley. 

She knew her life in the city would be short and she 
did not wish to go hack to her country home which she 
so earnestly longed to see, enervated by her city habits 
and unfitted to take up her life there as of old, for she 
longed to relieve Eena who was really getting so much 
self-reliance, but as Margaret knew, fighting such hard 
battles for it. Eena was not made for housework and 
found it irksome, yet she bravely overcame her natural 
feeling and made herself do what seemed to be her 
duty and do it well. 

But let us take a look at beautiful Margaret in her 
evening costume, for very beautiful she is. Her queen- 
ly figure was made more imperial and statuesque by 
the folds of the heavy white silk gown she wore, made 
with straight lines and simple though rich effects of the 
styles in vogue at that time, a demi-train over which 
was draped in Greek fashion an exquisite pattern of old 
lace with the beautiful arm left bare, and a glimmer of 
the fair neck modestly exposed in answer to the de- 
mands of fashion. Her beautiful glossy hair was ar- 
ranged on top of her head in loose waves, with a 
brilliant diamond butterfly poised on its coils. 

Beautiful Margaret indeed ! And so said the crowds 
of people as they parted to allow the Stanley party 
to approach the hostess, and so said one pair of eyes 
especially, whose gaze followed her in a maze of 
fascinated delight as she swept past and was lost in 
the crowd. A sigh of pleasure escaped from the owner 
of those eyes, and he fell into line and followed the 
party, keeping in sight of the coils of midnight hair 
until the crush was passed, and by some little maneu- 


48 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


vering he came near enough to have touched her hand. 
Much to his delight he saw a gentleman of his ac- 
quaintance approach the party and address the object 
of his admiration. In a moment he stood by his 
friend^s side asking an introduction which was readily 
obtained. Our ^^pair of eyes” were set in a head of 
fine contour, with a covering of light brown hair, a fine 
complexion, a moustache, and long side whiskers; the 
eyes were an indescribable blue that sometimes looked 
brown, and were ever changing and restless, hut open 
and honest as eyes in a fashionable man’s head can he. 
For ^^society” is a system of deception and suavity, that 
would he very pleasant if sincere, and the worst of it is, 
the deception is imperative under present conditions, 
and no one can be perfectly honest who is ^^in society.” 
The noblest men and women are curtailed in freedom. 
They are obliged from motives of policy and polite- 
ness to do every day and hour what they feel to be 
insincere and dishonest. 

If Mrs. Grundy calls they are obliged to receive her 
pleasantly, say they are glad to see her and hope she 
will renew her visit, and much more of the same sort 
that is utterly antagonistic to them. Keally they hate 
Mrs. Grundy and are jealous of her; perhaps she has a 
better position and more money than they, and if she 
has she is probably arrogant and takes the liberty to be 
disagreeable. But one must ^^s wallow it all” and cater 
to her likes and dislikes, and put away one’s own dis- 
gust, while the poor seamstress for whom you have a 
real respect because of her nobility of character, and 
•whom one truly likes, and whose society one would 


49 


Margaret Stanley. 

must be banished to an upper room, treated as 
a subordinate and kept away from one’s dear five 
hundred. 

One may be glad to steal away to her, climbing the 
stair to sink into a chair in her quiet room for the 
only repose and peace to be found from morning to 
morning again, but one is not allowed to stay, for 
presently another summons comes and one must go 
down to do over the tiresome work of entertaining some 
uncongenial guest. 

But to return to our hero of the eyes who had just 
been presented to our peerless Margaret. They surely 
made a fine pair as they stood in the midst of the 
brilliant throng. She with her midnight hair and 
eyes, her face scarcely less white than the glimmering 
robe she wore in all her stateliness; and he a shade 
taller, very erect, with a superb and manly bearing, 
showing a spirit naturally gentle but one that had never 
been curbed by circumstances and had not been wont 
to consider itself subject to any but its own sweet will, — 
will, which shone through the starry eyes with a power 
that only a strong reserve force could give, at least so 
mildly and yet merrily, for he had an inexhaustible 
fund of good nature and was the embodiment of wit 
and good fellowship. He was an Englishman of high' 
birth and culture, accustomed to carry all before him 
as he willed. 

Margaret stood listening with her sweet gravity to 
his bright remarks, hardly noting his evident desire to 
please and interest her, or his looks of admiration, and 
quite unaware that they were the observed of all ob- 


50 Currents and Undercurrents. 

servers as their striking looks necessarily attracted at- 
tention. ^^What a magnificent pair they are,” re- 
marked Mrs. Stanley to her husband who chanced to 
he near her. never saw Margaret mated before.” 
^^Yes, Gordon is a fine fellow and if you were a match- 
maker, now would be your chance, hut our Margaret 
does not look as if she would tolerate interference with 
her affairs, and I should not advise any one to try it, 
for although she is so gentle, I am sure if she were 
aroused there is a smouldering volcano there that would 
throw out fire and smoke against anything that inter- 
ferred with her ideas of right and strict justice. She 
is a jewel of a woman and worthy of the best man in 
the universe.” 

‘‘1 doubt if she ever marries though,” said Mrs. Stan- 
ley. ‘^She is developing peculiar ideas on that subject 
and being so entirely conscientious she will be likely 
to carry them out if she comes to any conclusion.” 

^^Ah ! is that so ? She is such a quiet puss I had no 
idea she had radical opinions on any particular subject. 
If she has, I am sure she will hold to them. What 
are they, pray?” 

^^This is hardly the place to tell you, but some time 
when there is opportunity I will lead her to talk to you 
about them, for I think they are well worth considering. 
It seems last summer a young man from a neighboring 
city met with an accident by his horse’s falling in front 
of their house, that caused an injury to his ankle which 
kept him a prisoner with them for some weeks. He was 
a free thinker (which seems to mean he did his own 
thinking on natural subjects in a natural way) quite a 


51 


Margaret Stanley. 

philosopher in fact, and he revolutionized the ideas of 
the whole family and woke Margaret especially from 
her mental sleep, and her vigorous intellect took the 
cue and is rapidly carrying out and evolving new 
theories that if brought to the attention of the people 
would do much to revolutionize the public mind.” 

^^But it^s getting late, and if you find Margaret is 
ready, we had best go home, I think.” And they passed 
through the throng to Margaret^s side. 

^^Well, Gordon,” said Mr. Stanley, who had known 
him before, ‘Ve are sorry to interfere with your 
pleasure, hut Miss Stanley is so recently an invalid we 
carry her off home earlier than we otherwise should.” 

^^Why, Uncle Charles, I am distressingly well now, 
and I do not get fatigued at all, hut I am quite ready 
to go if you wish.” 

shall he obliged to acquiesce then,” said Mr. Gor- 
don, ^^and if Miss Stanley will allow me to call and 
finish our very interesting conversation I shall not he 
quite inconsolable.” 

^Uh certainly,” said Margaret, ‘‘I should like very 
much to continue the subject,” and after making their 
adieux to the hostess they withdrew, Mr. Gordon care- 
fully wrapping Margaret’s cloak around her shoulders 
and attending her to the carriage. 


52 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


CHAPTER IV. 

Margaret’s Reverie.— Gordon Calls on Margaret— Conversa- 
tion.— Astrology.— Theosophy. 

Margaret’s country habits precluded any morning 
nap and she was always up early no matter how late 
she was out at night, and the next morning saw her 
with her toilet made at eight o’clock and sitting before 
the glowing grate fire in a pretty morning gown of 
crimson silk bordered with swansdown, her feet encased 
in the daintiest of slippers, and her hair in a low coil 
at the neck, making a most charming picture and lost 
in a profound reverie. 

First she reproached herself for remaining at her 
Uncle’s wasting her time and taking her ease, as she 
thought, when the work on the farm must go on any- 
way, and her mother and Rena were making such 
sacrifice to let her remain. And then she thought of 
all the work in the world that must be done by some 
one, and how many tired bodies and aching hearts 
there were, and she, made of no better stuff than these, 
deserving no better lot, was living in such idleness and 
luxury, and the world’s misery not a whit abated. She 
sprang from her luxurious chair as though the bitter- 
ness of it stung her very soul, and pacing rapidly up 
and down the room she resolved to return to-morrow. 
She would not put off what must and ought to be done^ 


Conversation. 


53 


and the dear old farm came back to her and filled her 
with love and longing. But after a few turns around 
the room such a sense of fatigue stole over her from 
the violence of her emotions, she was obliged to sit 
down again quietly and take her ease. She saw that 
while seeming well as long as she was tranquil, she yet 
had not recovered strength enough to resume her 
duties at home. So, her conscience being at rest, she 
recalled the previous evening and her introduction to 
Mr. Gordon, saying to herself very naively, that he was 
the most agreeable man she had met, and his evident 
admiration for herself was far from unwelcome and 
she looked forward to his call and the interrupted con- 
versation with pleasure. Our Margaret was a born 
aristocrat, she loved the highest and best the earth 
afforded, but her ideas of what was best and highest 
were quite out of the common. 

A noble nature, a student and helper of humanity, 
accompanied by refinement and culture, with position 
and money, and all that these could bring, seemed to 
be the acme of human desire, but money and the posi- 
tion it brings with the other elements left out, even 
admitting the refinement in the ordinary sense, were 
to her insufficient to make a full, well-rounded life. 
This is what we are, — or should be, — aiming at if we 
desire the highest attainment this world can bring us. 

True nobility is unselfish and thoughtful for others, 
and a person in the present state of society who is not 
interested in the great humanitarian questions that 
agitate the public mind was to Margaret wanting in 
the higher elements of thought, or greatly lacking in 


54 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


development, and that which had most attracted her 
to Mr. Gordon was the ease with which he led the con- 
versation into those channels. 

Water seeks its level,” ^dike seeks like,” and human 
minds naturally run together whose interests are in 
the same direction and he had given much thought to 
humanitarian subjects, being truly desirous to be a 
philanthropist in its fullest sense. 

He had recognized in her a ^damiliar spirit,” and 
discovered that to them both the same measures for 
the accomplishment of the reconstruction of society 
seemed necessary. This was very gratifying to Miss 
Stanley who had failed to meet any one who saw things 
as she did. Later when Mr. Gordon’s name was an- 
nounced she received him with real pleasure and they 
plunged into the subject left unfinished the evening 
before, at once. 

^^As we were saying last night. Miss Stanley, there 
does seem to be a general change of ideas all over the 
world. Even poor Russia is beginning to see some re- 
sults, small though they are, from her attack of Nihil- 
ism and the bars of human suffering seem to be let down 
in some degree. The reigning powers feel the eyes 
of the world upon them, and, although it seems hard 
for them to comprehend that there can be any other 
method than that of brute force, of punishment through 
physical suffering, yet it is slowly dawning upon their 
dull minds that the thought of the age is criticising 
them very severely and they must move on with the 
world’s progress or be crushed. ‘No nation, any more 
than any individual can live to itself. Its relation to 


Conversation, 


SS 

other countries makes it imperative that it keep abreast 
with the times, or as near to it as it can/ 

“Many changes in a small way have taken place 
which in the aggregate amount to determining factors 
in the fate of nations, and the people all over the 
world seem to have made about an equal advance, ac- 
cording to the rate of progress already attained/^ 
“Yes, indeed,” said Margaret, “you are quite right. 
To me there seems to he what might he called a break- 
ing up, a general upheaval of old ideas, an advance in 
humanitarian methods the world over. To he sure, it 
seems to he small and slow in view of what ought to be, 
hut as all growth is slow we must not despise the May 
of small things’ hut he thankful for any advance. 
Stuart Mills says, The greatest reforms come the most 
slowly.’ What do you suppose is the reason of a move- 
ment so general?” . 

“It would be presumptuous, indeed, in me to try to 
give any reason from my own observation,” said the 
visitor. “But I think it is the law of nature to grow in 
cycles. There is a rhythm that we often lose sight of, 
the ups and downs, the ins and outs of life, the night 
and day, the high and low, the ebb and flow, the moun- 
tains and valleys, the progression and retrogression of 
planetary systems, all are indications of the heating of 
Dame Nature’s great heart. 

“We plant a bulb in the dark, cold ground, seeming 
to do the very thing that would stop its growth and 
kill out any life there might be in it, but instead of 
that we only place it in the elements that are best 
adapted to its advancement, and when its night is past. 


56 Currents and Undercurrents. 

and by the law of its being it has pushed itself up 
into the light, we see the upward movement is the 
result of its travail in the darkness and night of its 
life. So nations have their time of dark when igno- 
rance and suffering of every form seem to prevail, and 
they groan and travail in sorrow and pain until at 
last the light is reached and the growth is above 
ground and perceptible, and we feel that something 
has been and is being done in real advancement. 

^^When I was traveling in the East, in India more 
especially, I came across many strange ideas that are 
helpful towards a solution of the great problem of life, 
for if not wholly true, there is always a kernel in every 
theory, and taking them all together, one sees the drift 
is the same, though methods differ. 

^^The astrological theory for a few years back has 
been that the more ponderous planets have made trans- 
its that cause the change of mentality, and this has, as 
it were, spiritualized our inhabitants by the long night 
of unrest, their close proximity to us has given. Their 
position on the 20th of December, 1899, being, as it is 
said, the same as at the crucifixion of Christ, has 
caused such great perturbations, through their magnetic 
attractions and repulsions, and consequent uplifting 
of the spiritual nature of man, seen only as signs of new 
growth of a different nature from the old, bringing 
into play a different set of faculties, which we speak 
of as spiritual, and which throws the dominating power 
toward mind instead of matter, the old methods of 
force and injustice, being compelled to yield to equity 


Conversation. 


57 

and justice in accordance with the divine instead of the 
human law, or to make the human law more divine. 

^^There is a theory that the cause of the changing 
spots on the sun is the magnetic influence of the 
planets that by their different aspects and combinations 
of aspects, and by the laws of reflection and refraction, 
they show upon the sun which acts as a mirror, their 
condition and position, an expert being able to tell 
by the color and form of these spots what particular 
planets have the strongest influence for the time being. 
This explains certain seasons of sickness and disaster, 
that are said to be caused by the spots on the sun, the 
sign which that body inhabits then having its influence. 
These signs being points in space, or imaginary lines, 
determined by numbers of degrees that a planet arrives 
at, where its influence is bad or good as the case may 
be. The sun and moon being considered as planets 
because they have an individuality, and having their 
influence equally with the rest according to their power, 
the constant revolution of each planet producing 
combinations that change results in the whole cosmos, 
so each system affects every other system. A most 
stupendous scheme that shows, not causes, divine law. 
And if poor humanity was not content to deal with 
effects instead of causes and would study this science, 
the chances of the world’s advancement would be much 
greater. It is said by noted astrologers that the posi- 
tion of the planets on December 2d, 1899, was the 
same as at the cruciflxion of Christ, and the advent 
of another Christ is looked for in the early part of the 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


58 

Twentieth Century, and as this is said to be the 
woman^s century it is predicted it will he a woman. 

^^This theory of the sun^s spots properly understood, 
seems to be a reasonable one. Astronomers ridicule 
and despise astrology, but they have as yet found no 
theory that satisfies them. It would be well for them 
to investigate before they condemn a science that has a 
natural and logical reason. 

‘T think this is to be an age in which people will be 
governed by prejudices less than formerly, one in which 
mind will throw off old trammels and courageously 
strike out after new truths.^^ 

^^This is really very interesting,^^ exclaimed Margaret. 
^‘What is more delightful than to learn to catch the 
breeze of new theories, to feel the wind of progress 
rushing on and brushing your cheek with its inspiring 
breath? To gain knowledge must truly be the object 
of life; but do tell me further. What other sciences 
did you learn about 

^^Why not so much about any, only a smattering, 
just to catch the idea. There are the Theosophists who 
teach among other things the cycle theory; and think 
now, we are at the close of a cycle, which means a 
period of time, say a thousand years; but a thousand 
years of spiritual growth and not years of three hun- 
dred and sixty-five days. They claim life to be in 
circles or rounds — not a complete circle, but a spiral — 
in which every circle or cycle the world rounds takes 
a plane higher; that all which exists now always did 
exist, and always will, only in different forms or combi- 
nations; that evolution, combination of forms in the 


Conversation. 


59 


course of evolution, produces new types out of old 
material; but this in the spiritual world, in the unseen, 
in that part of the universe which is the Life, the 
motive power; and this reality, this substance, reflects 
upon the visible world what gives us conscious recogni- 
tion, and that consciousness is the result of this natural 
(spiritual) evolution. That we are at the close of such 
a cycle, the advent of Neptune into the sign Gemini 
shows, Neptune being a spiritual planet and Gemini an 
intellectual sign. This is, of course, a very insufficient 
explanation of a great truth, and only shows that these 
and all sciences play into each other^s hands. All have 
a central point in common, and all the same trend. 
And if this be true, and the tendency is to make man- 
kind better and happier, we shall none of us be sorry 
for the approach of the new cycle and what it must 
bring us. 

‘^But I am prolonging my stay beyond all reason. 
Miss Stanley and can only excuse myself on the ground 
of the interest I have in the subject of our conversa- 
tion, as well as in the audience.^^ 

am equally interested, Mr. Gordon, and have not 
felt that your call was a long one.^^ 

“Do you go to hear the Walkyrie to-night, or are 
you not fond of Wagner?^’ 

“Yes, I believe we are to go,” she said, “I am very 
fond of Wagner, though I suppose my uneducated ears 
lose much of the beauty and soul of his compositions. 
I am unfortunate in not having had my^ musical taste 
cultivated as I could wish.” 

“A natural taste does not need cultivation so much,” 


6o 


Currents and Undercurrents, 


was his gracious reply. ^^You cannot help getting the 
soul of it. But if you will permit me it shall be my 
pleasure to call your attention to any points I may 
understand, from having repeatedly heard it.^^ 

^Thank you, you are kind. I shall be glad of your 
instruction,” and with friendly adieux he took his 
leave. 


CHAPTER V. 


Langley and Tom.— Humanitarianism.— Corinne.— A Death 
Scene.— A Poor Man.— Why He Was Ignorant. 

While Margaret has been in the height of a Hew 
York ^^season/^ and Rena in the depths of her house- 
work, Mr. Langley and our friend Tom have been deep- 
ly immersed in the business and humanitarian world, 
and have become firm friends. Both were honorable 
and upright, both from their natural selves thought 
alike, but the difference in education caused a sufficient 
unlikeness of thought, to make their intercourse spicy 
and enjoyable; for there must be friction among friends 
to secure friendship. Perfect unison does not produce 
harmony: it hastens weariness. 

Tom was all eagerness to learn the ways of the world, 
and was given to exploring and investigating in all 
walks of life. Sunday morning might find him a well 
dressed attendant at some fashionable church, and in 
the afternoon in working dress that brought him near 
them, he would be on the streets frequented by the 
lowest class of people, talking with this one and that 
one, getting at their inner life, rendering a service 
cheerily, where it was needed, always a help, always 
welcome everywhere, and in this way getting right at 
the heart of things ; and by contact with all classes, ab- 
solutely knowing the pulse beat of humanity. 


61 


62 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


He was strong and healthy, and could bear any 
amount of what would fatigue any one else: had ex- 
cellent judgment, a fine mind for analysis and classifica- 
tion, and was noted for his thoroughness in all he 
undertook, either mentally or physically. In fact he 
had the making of a hero in his broad and deep life. 

Mr. Langley was often with him in his perambula- 
tions and many an adventure did they have together; 
and an opportunity to do good was never neglected by 
either of them; both were well known in all parts of 
the town, and many a young lady of the elite felt her 
heart heats accelerated at their approach, for Tom was 
a society man, too. He was fond of saying, he meant to 
be an all around individual. 

Herbert Langley had a sister, a bright, pretty girl 
who had been much petted and spoiled at home, and 
was willful and wayward when it pleased her ladyship, 
hut really good-hearted and kind, when she thought 
of it, or could make it convenient. She was thoughtless 
but not heartless. 

She was much like her mother who was French by 
birth, and had worked in the factory before her mar- 
riage, and had won her way to the heart of her husband 
(a noble man) who was at that time an overseer in her 
department, by her pretty face and piquant ways. 

She was as near an approach to being frivolous, as a 
matron of her years often gets, certainly under the in- 
fluence of so good a man as her husband. Corinne was 
her pride and idol though she was very proud of her 
handsome and dignified son; hut she hardly understood 
him, and was a bit afraid of his high and mighty ways 
as she called them. 


Humanltariamsm. 


63 


One warm but lovely morning in June, we find 
mother and daughter on the veranda of their elegant 
home, which was flanked with trees, shrubbery, well 
kept walks and lovely flowers. 

^^Mamma dear, how insufferably dull it is to-day. 
What shall I do with myself ? I don^t want to read, or 
practice, or sing; my embroidery is tiresome, it is too 
hot to walk, and there’s no where in particular to drive 
and nothing to go for, and to sit here and think, with 
nothing to think of, is unbearable. Do tell me what 
to do or I shall be cross.” And she gave a petulant 
shake to her skirts that set the hammock in which she 
lay, swinging violently, and then viciously set her 
dainty foot down to stop it. Evidently something had 
gone wrong and she was out of sorts, poor darling. 

^^Why, Corinne, my child, what is the matter? You 
are not often like this. What is troubling you?” 

^^Oh nothing — I don’t know, I’m sure. I wonder 
what Tom was doing that he did not come out last 
night; I told him I wanted to see him especially, I 
wanted to talk with him about something. He never 
comes when I ask him. I presume he was down on 
Vale Street at some workman’s meeting and going 
home with some work girl, to protect her from some- 
thing or other. I’ve no patience with him. Those low 
girls can protect themselves. It’s all nonsense. I 
believe he just likes to. He cares enough sight more 
for those girls than for people of his own class. I 
think it is low of him to spend so much time among 
such people. One would think he was a pauper him- 
self, or had been.” 


64 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


^^Well, my child/^ said the mother, ^^you know Tom 
was only a farmer. To be sure he is nice, and we have 
made a great deal of him since he has been here, but 
you must not expect as much of him as if he had been 
brought up a gentleman’s son.” 

^^Gentleman’s son! Mamma, aren’t farmers gentle- 
men? Talk about gentlemen! where will you find one 
like him? He’s a gentleman through and through! 
You are never contented unless you are saying some- 
thing against Tom, and he’s always so kind to you, and 
to all of us.” 

^^How, dear, don’t misunderstand. I did not mean 
to speak against Tom. Perhaps he was at J ones’ recep- 
tion last night, and they are not paupers.” 

should think not, with all their millions. That 
Jones girl is trying her best to captivate him; I had 
rather he would go to Vine Street. But he can go to 
the Jones’ or any where else for all I care; I shan’t ask 
him to come out here again; I don’t care where he 
goes.” 

^^That’s right, dear, it isn’t worth while for you to 
think about it. There are plenty other young men. 
There’s Will Atwood, with quantities of money and 
handsome as a picture, and such a splendid turn-out. 
You know he is every way desirable, according to my 
way of thinking, and he worships the ground you walk 
on.” 

^‘ISTow mamma, you positively need not mention that 
man to me again, I detest him ! He isn’t to be spoken 
of in the same day with Tom Merwin. He knows just 
nothing at all except to pay compliments that he does 


Humanitarianism. 


65 


not mean. All the sewing girls in town might get 
waylaid and murdered for all he cares, and one can’t 
talk with him five minutes without getting tired of 
him. You might spend a whole day with Tom and 
never know the time had gone. Dear me, I wish he 
would come.” (Wistfully.) 

^^Well, if he don’t come some one else will. What 
difference does it make?” 

^TDifference ? Indeed ! How absurd you are, mamma,” 
and with a faint yawn she curled her white arm under 
her head, closed her pretty eyes, and was soon fast 
asleep and dreaming of Tom. 

Meantime, Tom was hurrying through his business 
to go and see a poor man who was dying and with whom 
he had spent the night in which Corinne had so re- 
sented his absence. The probabilities were, he would 
not live through the day and he longed to be there to 
comfort the family and do what he could to soothe the 
sick man’s last moments. 

Without waiting to get his supper, Tom hurried 
off and after a rapid walk, reached the house. 

He entered softly, to find the family gathered around 
the bed watching the long and deep breaths of the 
separation of the spirit from its earthly limitations, the 
throes of nature as it is rent, by the longings of the 
spirit to escape into a life of greater opportunities, to 
flee from its flesh environment to its new and greater 
freedom, its glad release, and ability to soar toward 
God and a fuller life. 

True, this was a poor and ignorant man, as we say, 
who had but little idea of God, and who did not even 


66 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


know he had a soul, (for no one had ever taken the 
pains to tell him) and who had been vicious, perhaps a 
criminal, though he did not know it in any sense of 
realizing what it meant. He had acted as he could with 
a mind in such dense ignorance, and not always as a 
man should, perhaps ; his reasoning powers were almost 
wholly obscured ; he lived like a dog who turned a wheel 
to press cheese in a farmer^s house. When he was put on 
the wheel he walked and walked, because he must; the 
wheel would not let him stop; when he got tired, he 
growled and muttered, and looked ugly, and when the 
wheel stopped he lay down and went to sleep. If any one 
disturbed him he showed his teeth and snapped at the 
disturber who had to keep out of his way, or get bitten. 
He was a terror except to the people who made him 
work and of whom he was afraid. This dog did what 
he had to, and because he had to; he did not like it, 
and he revenged himself when he got a chance, for 
what he thought were his wrongs, or in the absence of 
thought, because he felt ugly. Yet he was a dog of fine 
disposition when he was not made to do what he felt 
did not belong to him to do; he loved the children and 
even the cat was not afraid of him. 

So this poor man who was now being released, was 
naturally good; but the hard circumstances of his life, 
his ancestry coming from even greater depths of 
ignorance, his compulsory struggle when he wanted to 
live and grow like the trees, because he loved to. — Ah ! 
who shall say he hath not done what he could? Who 
shall dare condemn him for what he did not know? 
Jesus said, ^Tather forgive them for they know not 


Humanitarianism. 


67 

what they do.’^ Buddha, ^^All sufferings arise from 
ignorance/^ Socrates, ^‘Men act wrongly only because 
they form erroneous judgments/^ Let us ask ourselves 
the question seriously, — how much more do we deserve 
at the hands of justice, than this poor man who, like 
the fish that are born and live in the mammoth cave, 
without eyes, because they have no use for them, know 
so little of what is going on in the great and beautiful 
world outside of their environment! 

And so this poor wretch was making his last struggle 
to get out of his mammoth cave into the light of God’s 
love. Joy and peace go with him. 

He had seemed to be gone out of consciousness, but 
at Tom’s entrance to the room, as though a fresh breath 
of heaven’s kindness and love had reached him, he 
opened his eyes, smiled, made a feeble attempt to ex- 
tend his hand and was gone, into the Beyond. 

The wife and children broke into lamentations and 
wailings, but Tom’s hand was on their shoulder, or 
resting tenderly on the heads of the little ones, his 
soothing voice speaking words of comfort and cheer, 
and ere long a degree of quiet was restored, and with 
neighborly. help, the last earthly duties were performed 
for the truly living and awakened man, the necessities 
of the family provided for, and our friend was at liberty 
to seek happier surroundings. 

He stopped at a restaurant on his way home and had 
a light lunch, then went directly to his room, sank into 
an easy chair and a reverie at the same time. And 
here we leave him for the present, knowing well the 
nature of his thoughts. 


68 


Currents and Undercurrents, 


CHAPTEE VI. 

Beautiful Snow.— Winter Morning.— Breakfast.— Church.— 
Tom.— Rena’s Thoughts and Dream. 

What is more beautiful than one of the clear, cold, 
cloudless mornings in mid-winter in the country, when 
the whole world is covered with a pure white mantle, 
shining, glorious and beautiful, in the bright sunlight, 
when the very spirit of purity seems to be abroad and 
heaven’s own time at hand? 

So it was on this morning I speak of, when Eena 
looked out from her chamber window in the early dawn. 
Not a path, not a break in the clear glittering crystal, 
and it would take but a small effort of imagination to 
people the meadows with fairies and see them dancing 
in high glee in the bright clear air. Only we should 
have to remember the fairies do not like cold, and if 
you opened the window the sharp air would make you 
think something other than fairies nipped your fingers 
and nose. So Eena thought as she closed the sash and 
hastened down the stairs. But once in the bright 
cheery kitchen, she forgot the cold and fiew around 
like the substantial fairy she was to get the breakfast. 
Andrew and the hired man soon came stamping in with 
exclamations about the weather, the dog frolicked 
and struggled to get through the snow, the pigeons 
flew to the door and strutted around cooing for their 


A Winter Morning. 69 

breakfast and everything was glad, this beautiful morn- 
ing. 

I like to linger over that breakfast. The snowy 
cloth, the delicious ham and eggs, the baked potatoes, 
the luscious hot biscuit and honey, the nice little plate 
of pickled pepper, and those steaming buckwheat cakes 
and maple syrup, with a fragrant cup of hot coffee, 
makes one wish such breakfasts might last indefinitely 
and one^s appetite and capacity string out an ac- 
companiment. But all things must have an end and 
we must needs tell the rest of the tale. 

S This delightful day was Sunday, and as was the 
habit of the household the work was hurried through, 
the big sleigh and the sleek horses brought out, and 
leaving the hired man with the eat and dog for com- 
pany, the family drove to church to find a goodly num- 
ber of people assembled and among them ^^our Tom!^^ 

It was the first time he had been home and he was 
almost overwhelmed with handshakes and comments 
on his appearance, but nothing hindered him from keep- 
ing watch for the Stanley sleigh or being on hand to 
assist the ladies to alight when it drove up. 

^^Why Tom !” said Mrs. Stanley and Eena in a breath, 
^Vhen did you come? How glad we are to see you. 
How well you look.’’^ And Tom kissed Mrs. Stanley 
heartily as he would his mother, but Eena — ^well, she 
was bending down to brush the snow off her dress and 
did not see. There was no chance to talk for it was 
time for the service to begin, and they entered the 
church and were soon singing with fervor, ^Traise God 
from whom all blessings flow.^^ 


70 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


It was difficult for Tom to keep his eyes or his mind 
on the good minister with Eena’s sweet face just across 
the aisle, but he managed to behave decorously and no 
one wondered to see him take a seat in the Stanley 
sleigh after service. 

Perhaps a little heart did not go pit-a-pat and a 
bright blush come to a pair of cheeks to see the great 
manly, well-dressed, handsome fellow Tom had grown 
into, and their owner was very demurely quiet and gave 
others a chance to talk, quite contrary to her usual 
custom. She was casting about in her mental storehouse 
for remembrances of the somewhat awkward young man 
in brown overalls and with the two brimming milk 
pails she had so often seen him carry. She could hardly 
believe her own eyes though they were very glad eyes 
indeed, and she blushed crimson when she thought how 
she was ashamed to have him walk home with her when 
Mr. Langley was there. 

Was she happy? Well, it seemed very much like it 
when he lifted her out of the sleigh and with one swing 
of his strong arms set her on the piazza out of the snow. 
She tingled from head to foot with the old-time 
pleasure, and hastened into the house to hide her happi- 
ness for ^^she wasn’t going to let him see how glad she 
was, for really (in an attempt to cheat herself) she had 
not missed him so very much.” 

And he ? He felt a foot taller and his heart swelled 
to such proportions there seemed danger of its bursting 
its bonds, and with the aid of his arms enveloping the 
little figure entirely, in its tumultuous beatings. But 


A Winter Morning. 71 

such catastrophe was averted and quite to his surprise 
he walked into the house after her, much the same 
as other mortals do. 

And now with her wraps laid aside, her wayward 
curls brushed as smooth as possible, and a dainty white 
apron over her pretty gown, we see her bustling about 
to lay the table for dinner, Bounce tagging at her feet 
as though he was dimly aware that his day was over, 
and he must suffer the hitter pangs of jealousy in 
silence. This was a new delight to Tom for he had 
never seen Eena do anything but enjoy herself. Per- 
haps she was doing that now, he thought, but (authors 
being privileged) I know better ; she would much rather 
have sat nestled close to Tom with her hand in his, 
talking, talking, talking together, to hear the melody 
of his voice if nothing more, and she execrated the 
housework inwardly and outwardly, smiled serenely 
and pattered her little feet across the floor back and 
forth as though her whole happiness lay in the coming 
dinner. 

Description is perilous in the presence of readers who 
may not have recovered from the breakfast, so I for- 
bear, but the dinner was thoroughly enjoyed, while Tom 
told them about his life in town, about Mr. Langley and 
the family, and Eena remembered the picture that fell 
from his pocket in the description of Corinne. 

They were all, and especially Andrew, interested in 
the humanitarian work, and the fresh breeze brought 
to them from the world at large was invigorating and 
inspiring, for their hearts were in all reform and open 


72 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


to all new methods. Toward evening the sisters drove 
over, and after- a pleasant call took Tom off to his 
father and mother who were impatient to have him to 
themselves. 

How delightful it was to have Tom to think of again ! 
After our little girl was well tucked under the sheets 
and the light put out, she acknowledged to herself she 
had missed him dreadfully and the winter had been 
long and lonesome, though she had covered it up for 
herself so thoroughly; and then what a pang came when 
she thought he would have to go hack and leave her 
again, and the thought there might be another girl he 
liked better rose up before her like Hamlet^s Ghost to 
scare her cut of happiness, and she felt it would only 
be what she deserved when she was so mean as to be 
ashamed of him. And now it flashed over her that she 
was nothing but a green country girl and it was Tom^s 
turn to be ashamed of her, and in her pain she painted 
herself so terribly awkward, plain and outre, that in 
spite of the cold she arose and lighted her lamp and in 
her trailing white gown stood shivering before the 
mirror taking a good look at herself to see if she was 
^^so very homely” and how she really did look anyway, 
for she had never thought much about it before. Her 
first glance was somewhat reassuring and a good long 
look quite satisfied her on that point (for who does not 
recognize a beautiful girl when they see one, even 
though it is one’s self), and her spirits rose accordingly. 

And so the busy brain played at pros and cons until 
the pretty eyes closed and she was off to dreamland, 
driving a pair of reindeer over the city houses and 


73 


A Winter Morning. 

looking down the chimneys to see if she might find a 
young lady whom Tom loved, but she could find noth- 
ing but poor, dirty, ragged children and she saw Tom 
delivering a lecture to animals, tigers, bears, leopards, 
dogs, cats, snakes, jackals, and a fiock of ducks and 
geese that flew about and flapped their wings in his 
face and made a great noise over nothing; and then 
came great confusion and a leopardess leaped upon him 
and fastened her teeth in his throat and she awoke with 
a start to find it was broad daylight and she was being 
called. 

Four days were all Tom could spare from his busi- 
ness and they were made the most of, and Eena^s 
promise of correspondence made the parting somewhat 
easier for both. But the days seemed long and the 
work wearisome and she had to bring all her cheerful- 
ness to bear upon the situation to get on at all comfort- 
ably, the letters from Tom and Margaret being her 
chief delight. 

Upon the arrival of our hero at his own rooms he 
found a card of invitation from Corinne to a reception 
at her house that evening that he felt he must accept. 
He hastily dressed, and taking a cab, arrived just late 
enough to make his willful little hostess indignantly 
pretty and to call out from him so earnest an apology 
she was happy for the rest of the evening. 

Being so familiar a friend she called upon him for 
all sorts of assistance, and caused many sly looks from 
the members of the party who were on the lookout 
for gossip, and before the evening was over pretty 
Corinne and unconscious Tom were, figuratively speak- 


74 Currents and Undercurrents. 

ing, yoked in the bonds of matrimony and had settled 
down like other sensible folk, Eena notwithstanding. 
Corinne was happy and confiding, and her guest gallant 
and helpful, little knowing the consequences of that 
evening^s pleasure. 


CHAPTEE VII. 


Langley Calls Upon Tom.— They Discuss the Socialist Prob- 
lem.— Difficulties.— Solution. 

The next day^s business having been attended to, we 
find Mr. Langley and his friend Tom cosily seated in 
the rooms of the latter, prepared to talk over his visit 
to his country home; for Mr. Langley was almost as 
interested as Tom in what concerned those who had 
been so kind to him. They were talking over the 
changes that had taken place since the day his horse^s 
unlucky step had thrown him, a stranger, on the 
hospitality of the Stanleys. 

‘^‘How marvelous is life,” said Langley, ^%nd how 
it hinges on the smallest events, like the stumbling of 
a horse for instance; and our (seeming) greatest mis- 
fortunes bring so much good to ourselves and others! 
If only the one circumstance of our friendship had 
arisen, and the outgrowth of your work among the 
poor had been the result, it would have seemed marvel- 
ous, but when we see the changes that have come to all 
the rest of us, not the least of which has come to 
Andrew, we may well be profoundly stirred.” 

^^Yes, Andrew’s book is wonderful, a great success; 
and no one two years ago would have dreamed of his 
doing such a piece of work. A farmer’s life is such a 
quiet one, compared with the rest of the world. His 

75 


76 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


thinking apparatus gets rnsty, but let a new field be 
opened to him and all the dormant powers in him 
spring to life; and the result is often more marked than 
in a man who is in the swim and grind all the time as 
we in town are. Andrew has proven this beyond a 
doubt. 

^^Margaret too, in the revulsion of feeling that came 
to her from your eye openers has blossomed out into 
full life, or so I should judge from the reading of some 
of the letters shown me. She is a rare girl and will yet 
make her mark in the world. Eena from her budding 
womanhood has sprung into a fuller life too, has 
developed into an energetic housekeeper and a self- 
sacrificing and noble character, though she has lost 
none of her bright ways nor sunny temper. It could 
not be otherwise than that it should have extended 
somewhat to my own family and others in the neighbor- 
hood. My sisters have caught the spirit and are bring- 
ing forth good fruit; to say nothing of many others 
who have caught inspiration, and all from a rolling 
stone under a horse’s foot.” 

^^Yes, it seems like a fairly tale, looked at from the 
surface, but if we really knew what went before in the 
unseen, we might find the accident to be only the 
culmination of a series of events in the lives of us all 
that would seem perfectly simple and natural. Eeally, 
my mind must have been absorbing just the class of 
information that was needed to give the impetus the 
other minds were prepared for; and that is the way all 
miracles, so^ called, come about. I had been educated 
for that purpose, and it was all a result of Law.” 


Discussion. 


77 


believe the world moves that way. We look only 
to the surface of things, as a rule, and make no note 
of the underlying causes: we see only effects.’^ 

^^But public opinion is under wonderful revolution 
just now; the whole world is in a ferment. Thrones 
totter, the power of royalty wanes, might which has 
made right shivers as it falls into impotency. That 
which has been weak is becoming strong; the cry now 
being ^The People,^ let the oppressed go free, down 
with monopolies, up with individualism! Equal rights 
for all; an injustice to one is an injustice to all. The 
age of apathy is passing; action is the word! Every 
man and woman is beginning to think for himself or 
herself and inherited prejudice is passing. The de- 
graded and poor are rousing from their lairs; looking 
around in the broad sunshine, the free, pure air of 
Heaven, seeing the beautiful things of life, and asking 
themselves, why is this ? Why am I living in poverty 
and filth with hardly enough to keep breath in my 
body, and this other man (with just the same elements 
in him, bones and sinews, fiesh and blood, a heart that 
pulsates no different from mine, with only the five 
senses that I have, with much the same emotions play- 
ing through his mind, — love, hate, courage, fear, etc.), 
reveling in luxury? Why am I deprived of all these 
good things that he has? Have I not the responsi- 
bility of my life, as he of his ? Must I not work ? Ho 
I not fill my niche in life as he does? Alas! Why? 
And the cry goes on among them; this small word 
big with import, until it seems the air is filled with it. 

^^The rich man q^uakes becauses of it, for he needs 


78 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


must ask himself, why? and find no sufficient reason. 
The monopolist who riots in his millions racks his brain 
for a plausible story with which to entrench himself in 
his vested rights : the work-slave battering at the gates 
with ever increasing vigor to bring him to his senses 
and out of his stronghold, to make him see his danger 
and the remedy, and bring about the changes that must 
come by peaceful means, both knowing that it cannot 
be so brought about. The monopolist is as much a 
creature of circumstance as is the victim of monopoly, 
and those who ride in the car of progress are as im- 
potent as those it over-rides, to stay its course or guide 
it in its path. The impulse is from behind as well as 
before. The long wearisome road it has traveled, the 
millions it has crushed, all cry out, all give it the 
impetus to climb this last hill of difficulty, that shall 
send the tide of economic revolution down on the other 
side in such havoc that worlds shall tremble. The 
backward swing of the pendulum will cause such a re- 
coil as the world has not known, my dear fellow, unless 
human foresight fails. Then the calm after the storm, 
the adjustment of forces, and we move on again in a 
new and better order of things.’^ 

‘^You have said it well,’’ said Tom. ^^Your picture 
is so vivid, I can plainly see struggling humanity 
crushed and bleeding under institutional and constitu- 
tional inequalities, and hear the shrieks and groans of 
the victims. Ugh! It makes me shiver.” 

^^But let us see,” said Herbert, ^^if something cannot 
be done to avert this awful catastrophe that now seems 
imminent ? Let us try to look at it a little in detail.” 


Discussion. 


79 


^^The laborer bas inherited his lot, generally. Of 
course there are exceptions, that from untoward circum- 
stances have fallen from a higher (as we call it) estate, 
but as a rule, the poor man^s father was poor before 
him; both were reared in poor surroundings; both lack 
education and opportunity. The mothers were equally 
poor and more oppressed, for, in addition to the general 
poverty which the husband shared, the wife had the 
oppression of her subjection to him, — her marital 
slavery in which all women, rich and poor must share. 
The golden chains of riches and power were chains, 
and had to be ashed for, often of an unwilling almoner. 
The ennobling role of motherhood was performed under 
just as much compulsion in the rich man^s home, as in 
the want and squalor of the hovel and hut. No matter 
how much her outraged nature cries out against it she 
was as verily a slave as the Southern negro, in whatever 
walk of life she found herself. Her heart was heavy 
with its own private griefs though her role was un- 
complainingly filled. And her heavy soul transmitted 
to her child the sodden weight of her own mental de- 
pression, in addition to the ills incident to the father^s 
want of means to procure physical comfort for his 
family. Could you expect this man, or these men, to 
have the spirit to rise up and battle with their more 
fortunate neighbors in their race for life? Was not 
everything both in his own nature and his surroundings 
calculated to keep him down? 

^‘We blame the working man for not seeing the situa- 
tion, for not wisely using the power that is in his own 
hands; for not recognizing the fact that voting, or 


8o 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


fighting, he outnumbers and could control, if he were 
not generally too sodden in his intellect, too apathetic 
in his habit of thought to see that he might be master. 
What could we expect of a man that had always been 
so enslaved; can he rise above his condition? Would 
he be a wiser, better master than his masters ? As well 
might the valley rise to the level of the mountain; as 
well might the glassy river which reflects so clearly 
the beautiful clouds, aspire to sail on the blue ether of 
Heaven’s dome. What then? Shall he plod along in 
dumb discontent and the world take no notice ? Shall 
the more fortunate man outrage his own nature by 
passing him by, ignoring the divinity in rags ? Ho, a 
thousand times no! We must lift up our brother, we 
must know that as long as he remains a weight to him- 
self, he is a drag upon every man and a reproach to 
society. If I am on a mountain top, shall I fail in 
striving to lift up my fellow man who has fallen into 
a pit at my feet? 

^^How Tom, as I look at it, the responsibility for the 
renovation of the present system rests with the middle 
man, just such fellows as you and I, and a host of us 
who are both higher and lower but who are neither on 
the pinnacle of riches or in the pit of poverty. It seems 
to me, both of these classes are barred out. We must 
compel them to move, we must study methods, must 
rouse the sleeping mind of the lower and the equally 
dull conscience in the upper class; must get them to 
see how the world stands to-day; must show them that 
they are on a volcano that when it bursts, will not only 
swallow up the uppermost, but its hot lava running 


Discussion. 


8i 


down the sides will engulf the lower, and all in a fiery 
rnin.” 

^‘But how, Herbert, how ? Look at the interminable, 
inextricable difficulties before us. If the masses were 
intelligent enough and were willing to see and act, it 
would be different, hut they will not even vote except 
on the old party lines ; will not change their course but 
expect some one else to; some other man or men must 
bring this about. They join labor unions, and strike, 
and starve their families, because there is excitement 
in that; they are doing something desperate, hurting 
some one. They revenge themselves, get some of the 
people who are not starved, killed or maimed. They 
dearly love to get themselves strung up to the highest 
pitch of animal excitement, string rome one up to a 
lamp post, or commit any crime to throw off the bad 
passions in themselves. They are defending their wives 
and children when they do that ; ^protecting their wives’ 
by allowing them to starve, while they fight. 

^‘They annoy and injure their employers, cause both 
unnecessary suffering, and accomplish nothing, only 
agitation; they set the indifferent public to thinking, 
first, of what mischief they may do next, and then of 
the causes that wrought them up to that pitch. The 
people are compelled to think by their fears, and out of 
that will, in time, come the remedy. 

^^And now when they have done and suffered all they 
can in the way of harm, they go to work like hungry 
dogs as they are, and sink into their old apathy again, 
declaring that nothing can be done, and thinking that 
they must leave things as they are and be thankful for 


82 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


bread to eat and clothes to wear. How can we rouse 
them, Herbert? I confess myself discouraged and at 
a loss; I cannot see the way.^^ 

‘^WelV^ said Herbert, ^^the only way I see is in co- 
operation. Just as long as labor creates the wealth of 
the world, and land (nature) the means through which 
labor evolves wealth (and this is God’s free gift to all 
men equally, i. e., man’s strength and ability to labor), 
and the soil the means by which labor is utilized, by 
just this right, as given equally to all, must we all do an 
equal share of the labor. 

^^Why am I, who work with my hands as a farmer 
or a miner, let us say, how am I, who, in one sense, do 
the most disagreeable and laborious (physical) work, to 
be expected to warm and feed you who do the in- 
tellectual work of the world; you who can sit at your 
(physical) ease amid the pleasant results of man’s toil, 
in a beautiful home, amid art and luxury, and, sitting 
there, solve your problems (hard and knotty and onerous 
as they are, but more agreeable than my tasks), because 
you can be clean and comfortable? For what reason 
am I expected to furnish you these comforts and I have 
pnly the bare necessities of life? 

^^You will say, perhaps, as some contend, that through 
a long line of ancestry who have lived out the problem, 
i. e., gone through all these stages of life, you have 
inherited the right to ease and comfort since they bore 
the toil for you. Or, as the Theosophists say, you have 
been through all these phases of life in former incarna- 
tions, and have so earned your luxuries. I have not 
reached the luxury stage in my development, but if that 


Discussion. 


83 

be true, and you have reached an advanced grade of in- 
telligence, it is more than ever your duty to take care 
of my interests. Shall I leave the little child given 
to me as a trust, to take care of itself because I have 
arrived at the age of manhood and passed through the 
experiences he has got to meet; shall I let him starve 
because he has neither the knowledge or strength neces- 
sary to feed himself? Are not the intellectually poor 
and weak, the children, the charges or wards of their 
superiors? It should be so certainly. 

; need not confine myself to the needs or diet of the 
child, but it is surely my duty to see it properly clothed 
and fed. And so should the man of intellect and re- 
sources look after and provide for the classes that are 
unable to cope with the difficult circumstances of life, 
and make full provision for their comfort. It is not 
necessary I should put myself on their plane, or in their 
place, but must attend to it to the best of my ability, 
that they do not suffer, while I revel in luxury. They 
ought at least to have equal opportunities. Is it not 
so? 

^^Then on this ground alone, cooperation should pre- 
vail; and though perfect equality can never in my 
opinion prevail, because one portion of the world has 
the start of the other in the beginning and the race is 
necessarily unequal, yet to the late-comer should be 
secured the necessities and comforts of life. At least 
this will leave them free to advance as fast and far as is 
in their nature to do, thereby relieving the whole of us 
of a heavy incubus that hinders progress.’’^ 

am glad to have this shown to me so plainly, Her- 


84 Currents and Undercurrents. 

bert. I see it so far, but how to bring about this so- 
much-to-be-desired cooperation is my problem.” 

‘That is what puzzles us all. My plan is to educate 
the people to the needs of the hour. I also believe in 
the natural course of evolution. One cannot tell just 
the order on which it will come. The difficulty lies in 
the political situation, politics which control economics 
being run for party and not for principle, or the masses. 
The two existing parties must be counted out, broken 
up ; nothing can be expected of them because they have 
run into ruts. A new party, a people’s party, must be, 
nay, has been, organized. The ‘one kg’ principle has 
had its day. The body politic must stand squarely on 
its two feet and start off on a regular running race; 
the people must he the 'people; the sex line must be 
abolished. We cannot start a new party on an unjust 
basis and succeed. Equality must prevail. 

J “We want the peculiar characteristics of women in 
the field. It is of no use to quarrel and quibble over 
what the peculiar qualities of the female mind are, or 
dispute whether or not women are fitted for the fight 
that is to come. We want the whole: all there is, of 
whatever quality it may be. It is not known what lines 
women will develop into ; they have had no chance. Let 
them have an equal chance with men, for in no other 
way can it be known what qualities they possess. We 
must take women as they are, accept them for what 
circumstances have made them, uphold and strengthen 
them where they are weak, and utilize thankfully their 
strength and power. At all events we cannot get on 
without them, and I question whether the ‘Chariot of 


Discussion. 


85 


State’ will lose its equilibrium ever so little. Whatever 
we may expect, our women are much better prepared 
than we think. Their province is government, not only 
after they marry, but before. Every girl who arrives 
at an age of responsibility begins to study how to 
govern circumstances and make them yield the most 
they will, and because the girl is cramped and hampered 
on every side, she has to exercjse all the more wit 
and wisdom to accomplish her desires. I think we may 
safely trust them in politics, if we can in our families 
where are the most sacred interests of our lives. 

^^As to the question whether they desire to accept 
equality (suffrage) and wish to take up the additional 
burden of government or not, it is of no moment in a 
consideration of Government. If they have thought 
about it at all, studied the situation, they invariably 
do desire the ballot; if they have not considered it, it 
is safe to conclude they will desire it when we have 
forced them to take it up, and if it is likely to make 
their burdens too heavy, we must help them out with 
some of those they now carry; at all events we must 
have them. 

^^With the female element introduced, undisciplined 
as they may be, we shall at least get out of the ruts, 
and not be likely to get into any new ones at once. It 
must give variety and scope to the public mind, and I 
believe much more of wisdom and far-sightedness in the 
moral as well as the intellectual line, because, as a rule, 
women are governed by intuition and see and act 
from a different view-point, and one in which we place 
much confidence in our private lives. 


86 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


Women favor humanitarian reforms always, when 
not mentally overshadowed by men, and that being 
the case, if we combine the wisdom and experience of 
men, with the ardor and intuitive gifts of women, it 
will be strange if we. cannot find a way out of our social 
and economic difficulties. What you and I and every 
individual must do is to work for the new enlighten- 
ment because it embraces the woman movement as well 
as all other needed reforms that we worldings in our 
blindness and ignorance can perceive.” 

^^Well,” said Tom rising, “I see it clearer than I ever 
did before and am ready to do my part, hut after all 
Fact seems to have us in her grip and one man looks 
pretty small in the whole plan ; as we needs must move 
on in some line, it behooves us to exercise our best judg- 
ment to go in the right direction. 

' ‘^Let us tone up our minds by drinking to the new 
movement a glass of old wine, after so long a look into 
the future,” said Herbert. 

''No thank you,” said Tom, "not to-night, I’m too 
high strung. I’d better go home and dream out what 
I do not now see. 'La nuit porte counseil.’ ” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Margaret— Mrs. Stanley’s Conversation with Her Husband. 

—Disagreement— Margaret and Gordon. 

And now while the abstruse problem is being dreamed 
out we will return to Margaret Stanley whom we left 
trying to recover her health in New York. 

The opera was duly attended, and with the assistance 
of Mr. Gordon’s interludes of explanation, proved a 
great delight. Margaret’s natural love of music made 
her an apt listener and even had she been less beauti- 
ful and attractive, he would have taken the utmost 
pleasure in witnessing her quick perception and compre- 
hension of the composer’s idea. 

He was more and more delighted with Margaret as 
their acquaintance progressed and he discovered new 
beauties in her character and realized that the delicate 
refinement of her face and form were but a refiection of 
mental qualities still more exquisite and delicate, yet 
strong, true and deep. 

He saw that she possessed a wealth of intellect and of 
heart, and a staunch and unflinching courage that would 
never fail in any trial. He understood and admired 
her accordingly, and he so expressed himself in a 
conversation with Mrs. Stanley which took place one 
day when on an occasion of one of his calls Margaret 
was unable to see him and Mrs. Stanley received him. 

87 


88 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


After remarking upon the beauties of Margaret’s 
character, Mrs. Stanley said, "And yet few men would 
desire Margaret for a wife.” 

"Do you realize how men hold to the old false idea 
of the ^clinging vine,’ the ^playful kitten,’ and the 
^angel’ in woman and how jealous they are of a woman 
of character like Margaret ? I know I am speaking to 
a man of parts who will not only recognize the truth 
of a statement, hut acknowledge its justice even if it is 
against himself or his kind. 

"Probably you have not realized how man has been 
brought up through long ages to regard himself as the 
acme of humanity, to feel that he occupies the highest 
place the world can give, that he is the sovereign, the 
master of the universe, all of which is true if the sex 
line were not drawn. 

"Man has in so classing himself thought only of 
brute force, physical power, and ignored the life energy 
that makes him a living, moving, forceful being. He 
has forgotten his origin. He has searched in the dis- 
secting room and all possible and impossible places for 
the Soul, the Motive Power, of his life, for what has 
made him what he is, without avail; all his intellect 
and ingenuity have failed him. He could not find the 
Spirit by any material means and he had no other at his 
command because his was the material realm, he lacked 
intuition. 

"Woman belongs to the Spiritual; here she is positive, 
this is her realm, that of the intuitive; how else could 
she he fit to hear the precious burden of life from the 
Spirit realm to the material? She is the passage-way; 


89 


Mr. and Mrs. Stanley. 

she alone has the adaptive nature that can carry from 
God to man. She indeed, is the arbor vitae, the tree of 
life. 

^^This idea has been shown in a crude way in the 
past by allusions to her angelhood. Poets have sung 
of it; men have. worshipped the idea and gloried in it, 
and in their power of protection for her who embodied 
their highest ideal, and have grown strong and high in 
this role. 

^^The idea is poetry itself, but alas for the realization. 
Woman has borne the children, and many another bur- 
den, and the greatest of them all has been her confined 
and imprisoned intellect and general life. Instead of 
being the Angel, the governing power (for in the true 
conception how could angels submit to the rule of 
men ?), literally the subordinate, taking what man in 
his judgment has seen fit to appropriate to her. 

^^^How has she been so held,^ you ask? 

^^Not by physical force surely (though fear of that has 
had something to do with it), but by mental force, the 
power of man’s thought. 

^^So to speak, the woman is, in a degree at least, out 
of her proper sphere. Her life must reach the highest 
and descend to the lowest which is the material plane, 
while man’s comes through hers ; he could not exist but 
for her. 

“Is it the order of nature that the origin should be 
beneath that which is produced, subservient to it, con- 
trolled by it ? Men have had two very distinct stand- 
ards for woman, the angelic or poetical, which they 


90 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


have talked much of, and the subservient which they 
have practiced. 

^^But women are not all alike; and some have always 
failed to he put down whatever may be the appearance 
on the surface. Woman’s life runs strong and deep 
and must sooner or later show itself; and between 
their angelhood and their womanhood they reach such 
an equilibrium that the mind of man has had to 
recognize its equal and fear his superior. He does not 
like it. His baser self claims the prerogative long 
established through precedent; he does not like that 
kind of an angel in his house, he fears her desire to rule 
him (judging her by himself) and because he feels her 
nearer proximity to the realm of Spirit and intellect, 
thinks she will he sure to be shown the way to it in 
spite of him; she must he kept down! 

^^But alas for the hope. She has learned her power 
and her ^sphere’ and is reaching for it so fast and far 
that man stands aghast. Shall he have such in his 
own home and for the wife of his bosom ? Ho indeed ! 

His wife must cling to and look up to him 1 He will 
struggle to the last. 

^^Of such as these advanced souls is Margaret and 
so I say few men would care to have her for a wife.” 

Mr. Gordon had listened seriously and gravely, and 
replied with some reluctance. ‘^The train of thought 
is new to me, my dear Mrs. Stanley, but I fear I shall 
he obliged to acknowledge its truth. I am sure, how- 
ever, such reasons would never weigh with me. On 
the contrary, a woman of strength and character would 
be my choice. I shall want true companionship, and 


91 


Mr. and Mrs. Stanley. 

never grudge my wife, if such a blessing ever comes 
to me, all the privileges of her Soul-horn sphere. Alas ! 
How little we know ourselves! John Stuart Mill says, 
man hates an equal at his own fireside/ It mav be 
true/^ 

But to return to Margaret. She also had recognized 
i' Mr. Gordon a man of superiority. She had never 
met her equal before, a man who could teach and he 
willing to be taught, to see things out of her eyes as 
she did out of his, who would listen to her patiently and 
respect her opinion as he expected her to respect his, 
and with whom she could feel such companionship as 
had never fallen to her lot before; and as time passed 
and they knew each other better, they congratulated 
themselves that their companionship was no sickly 
sentimentalism, but a shoulder to shoulder, equally- 
balanced friendship, on a footing rarely attained by 
man and woman and as lasting as the hills. They 
stood soul to soul. 

Margaret as she learned more and more of the world, 
had taken a great distaste for marriage. She could not 
make up her mind to tie herself irrevocably to any man, 
for she saw plainly that if she were yoked to an angel 
the fact in itself of being yoked would produce condi- 
tions of restraint that would kill her love and cause her 
great unhappiness ; because of our social laws which she 
could see no way to improve upon she had resolved to 
live her life alone and forego home and family pleasures 
rather than put herself in a position she felt would soon 
become irksome to her. She believed in marriage for 
others but not for herself, and such a friendship as this 


92 Currents and Undercurrents. 

was peculiarly pleasing to her. She had read John 
Stuart Mill’s ^^Subjection of Women.” 

As time passed, without realizing it, they were both 
making rapid strides in mental growth. 

Mr. Gordon had been educated in a German Uni- 
versity and had had years of travel; he had seen nearly 
all countries and being naturally a student with a 
sharply analytical mind, had looked into most of the 
general lines of knowledge and considered himself — as 
he was — ^^au fait” in most of them. 

Margaret’s learning had come from her inner nature, 
whose intuitive depths were inexhaustible, limited only 
by the power of her consciousness to grasp and interpret 
them. 

In such highly organized minds this consciousness 
comes suddenly in response to the needs of the hour. 
Necessity for knowledge of any kind was the key that 
unlocked the closed doors of these inner chambers and 
disclosed to her outer sense whatever she desired to 
know, for all minds are at one with the Great Unseen 
(the reservoir of knowledge) in a greater or less de- 
gree, and only the turning of the spigot r^f necessity is 
necessary for our enlightenment, unless, as is mostly 
the case, the consciousness is so filled with the acquire- 
ments of the material life that opinions and prejudices 
thus gained hinder and shut out the infiux. Like a 
clear running stream, with a dam built across it that 
causes it to hack water and then to fall with a commo- 
tion that changes it entirely from what its nature pro- 
vided, it still runs on, hut not in its natural way. 

Margaret’s passive existence up to the time of Mr. 


93 


Mr. and Mrs. Stanley. 

Langley^s accident had left her intuition clear for her 
use in her new and varied life and the lessons it con- 
tained for her ; though if we could only understand that 
life on earth is in reality only a school for the education 
of the Soul, a sequence which nothing could break, it 
would he much easier and spare us sufferings innumera- 
ble. 

The truly noble soul of Mr. Gordon was weighted in- 
stead of exalted, by his education, his years of contact 
with the world and his studies of men and their 
methods. He had no real knowledge of himself or of 
anything hut his surface life. He had his ideals of 
wliat man should be and thought he lived up to them 
pretty well, but they were sometimes cramped and 
stunted and made his life seem warped and irregular 
to others. 

He spent much time and pains, society man though 
he was, teaching advanced theories of benefit to man- 
kind and thought he was sacrificing himself on the 
altar of a good cause — as he was — but he did not look 
deep enough into his own nature to see that his motive 
was not wholly unselfish, and that mental exhilaration 
was a large factor; that to overcome by his well founded 
arguments the opinions and prejudices of a person’s 
whole development thus far, was an exhilarating 
pleasure greater than the effort to study up his sub- 
ject had been laborious, or than of having turned the 
thought of the listener in a direction likely to benefit 
him and the world at large by adding another mind 
to the side of right and against error. In doing this 
he was no different from the rest of mankind and it 


94 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


was perfectly legitimate and right. The point is, that 
he did not see the effect upon himself, taking more 
credit for unselfishness than belonged to him, thereby 
deceiving himself about himself, and since to know one’s 
self is to know all others, he was deceived in every one 
and in his estimate of human nature and so he was going 
through the world blindly. “Know thyself” contains 
all wisdom. To understand the nature of your friend, 
one must dig up and analyze his own characteristics, 
face them and “put himself in his place” and from these 
premises form his judgment; then you may he said to 
have knowledge. It is much easier to bury our faults 
and lay the effect of them upon some one else and leave 
our world to go wrong because we stand on a wrong 
basis. Mr. Gordon recognized the good he did, hut 
covered up his faults, or rather, failed to recognize them 
and thought the effects of them must needs lie at some 
other door. 

If things went wrong with Margaret she dove deep 
in her own nature, rooted out the cause, brought it to 
light, looked it over and as far as she was able stamped 
it out of" existence. 

The effect of this upon her mind was to make her less 
lenient to others who did not do this. To her it brought 
great power and capabilities, and she could not under- 
stand that others had not the same power of self- 
command, and because she desired to know her faults 
in order to overcome them, she was merciless in point- 
ing out to her friends defects of character which in 
herself she would have resolutely uprooted, and her sur- 
prise was great that they not only seemed hurt, and 


Mr. and Mrs. Stanley. 95 

paid no attention to them, but rather were offended with 
her. 

Life is made up of small things. Margaret knew 
herself better than most people, but did not fully 
realize that she might safely take her own experience 
as a criterion by which to judge others, and having dis- 
covered so many faults in her own nature it lessened 
her self esteem and she let her conscience lash her 
unreasonably, making her self-distrustful and unhappy. 
She had not reached her equilibrium. Unconsciously, 
however, she conveyed the idea to others because of her 
vigorous and self-contained ways, that she estimated 
herself too highly, when the fact was quite the contrary 
and she was lashing herself for faults she did not 
possess. 

Naturally, if any ‘^uneven places” came up between 
her and Mr. Gordon she was inclined to take the blame 
upon herself and he was very willing she should. The 
result is easily foreseen. Their path grew more and 
more uneven. She in her womanly way smoothed 
matters over and took the blame upon herself whether it 
belonged to her or not, for peace’s sake, and he per- 
mitted it without protest and neither saw their mistake. 

One bright day in the early spring Mr. Gordon pro- 
posed a drive in the Park and Margaret assented with 
a lively sense of satisfaction. She was just in the 
mood for it. 

The air was cool and balmy, the sky was blue, the 
clouds fleecy and soft, all nature was preparing to spring 
into life and activity, and swelling with rapture at the 
prospect of release from its winter captivity. The 


g6 Currents and Undercurrents. 

horses caught the inspiration of the day and howled 
along at a pace exhilarating and thoroughly inspiring. 

‘^How delightful!^’ exclaimed Margaret. ^^What a 
perfect day! Nature has done her best for us.” 

^^Yes,” said her companion, ^^What a pity all the 
rest of the world cannot enjoy it as well as we.” 

^^True, indeed ! I sometimes feel quite guilty taking 
so much comfort when I think of the millions living in 
squalor and misery without the necessaries of life even. 
But then I think my refusing the enjoyments offered 
me would not help these others. How gladly would I 
forego the pleasure if it would make up to the lives 
of the wretched any measure of comfort; but I find no 
one of us can bear another’s burden; each soul must 
have the experience it needs. I feel so utterly help- 
less when I think of it, there seems no way out into the 
light for them, looking from the material plane. In- 
dividual effort can do nothing.” 

‘^No, it is all wrong; it is the system; the whole plan 
must be changed and that is a matter of time, of growth 
and education. When the people realize the injustice 
of the present situation and desire a more equitable 
adjustment it will come. The present system of com- 
petition is all wrong; we want fraternal cooperation in- 
stead of fraternal competition.” 

^'Yes, I see, but so many think competition desirable 
because there will be no incentive if that is taken away. 
,They say man must have this incentive to labor.” 

‘'Oh, now don’t you talk that way. I have shown 
you over and over it is not true. I’m so tired of hear- 


Mr. and Mrs. Stanley. 97 

ing such nonsense talked; every one you meet says that 
the first thing. I expect better things of you.^^ 

‘^Yes, buW^ 

^^Oh, I know what you are going to say, but after we 
have talked it over again and again you ought to know 
better. Do you think a man must always be forced in 
order to follow the bent of his own mind ? What would 
life be without employment? Do you think I should 
sit still like an oyster and fold my hands because I had 
bread and meat and the other necessaries of life ? That 
would not satisfy the demands of my nature for 
activity, the desire to do something, I should always 
have my ideals to carry out.^’ 

‘^Yes, I know, but— 

^^There you go with you fi)uts’ again. I do not see 
how I can make it any plainer; if you don’t understand 
now you never will.” 

^Tf you remember,” she finally succeeded in saying, 
said I understand, but people, other people, so many, 
think competition necessary, do you not remember? 
You misunderstood me. You did not give me a chance 
to explain, that was all. Never mind, it is so easy to 
misunderstand. I presume I did not state it plainly. 
We will say no more about it, the day is much too 
pleasant to get angry in. It reminds me it is nearly 
time to put behind me the pleasures of city life and 
seek my native hills. I must go home soon.” 

^‘Now you have brought up another disagreeable sub- 
ject. You know I can’t bear to think of your going 
home. I cannot do without you. There is little enough 
that is pleasant in life without being reminded that 


98 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


one’s best friend is going to leave him. I believe you 
want to go just to annoy me because you know how 
much I want you to stay. You know no one can take 
your place to me but you do not care because you are 
going home to your friends. I am nowhere.” 

^^Oh yes, you are. I am ashamed to say I am so un- 
grateful as not to wish to go, when they have all been 
denying themselves so much to let me stay here and get 
quite strong and well. I am afraid I ought to have 
gone before and should but for the pain of leaving you. 
I shall miss everything, but you most of all. I never 
had such a companion before. Then, you must re- 
member, I shall have no companionship that is con- 
genial with my present ideas of things, and can only 
find my pleasure in giving to others what has been so 
freely given to me.” 

“Oh yes, that’s just like you women. You can take 
up anything and go along with it and be satisfied. It’s 
no hardship for you, but what can a man do who has 
fixed habits and does not like to change his friends? 
To find one that pleases him is not so easy. It is too 
disagreeable to think of. You might let a man enjoy 
himself the little time he has left and not bring up so 
disagreeable a topic to put him out of sorts.” 

“I am sorry I spoke of it. I did not think it dis- 
agreeable as long as it must be met. I am sure you 
seem to me to have much the best of it, f6r you have 
everything congenial when I must go to work at my old 
irksome duties again. I am really sorry it does not 
look very pleasant to me.” 

“Well, I suppose it does not, but you women always 


Mr. and Mrs. Stanley. 99 

take things so easy. It is no trouble to yon to do what 
yon do not like.^^ 

cannot see why yon shonld say that/’ said Marga- 
ret who was by this time having hard work to keep her 
temper. ^^We have feeling the same as men, and are 
made of flesh and blood, and like what we like and dis- 
like what we dislike.” 

^^Oh now, yon are vexed,” he said. “Nothing ever 
goes qnite right with yon lately.” 

“I think Fll keep still awhile then,” she replied, 
“and let yon commnne with Natnre.” 

Silence reigned for a time and then as they drove to 
the door she said, “Pardon me, perhaps I was impatient. 
I did not intend to spoil yonr drive.” This was what 
she thonght he shonld have said and she made this op- 
portnnity for him to respond kindly and make the leave- 
taking pleasant, hnt he replied ont of his snpreme blind- 
ness and selfishness, 

“Oh, never mind, I am snre yon did not intend to 
he disagreeable,” then lifting his hat, he drove away. 

Scenes like this grew more freqnent, Margaret feel- 
ing as in this case a deep sense of injnstice. She had 
not been the one to “do the disagreeable,” and his con- 
dnct showed an amonnt of egotism and want of generos- 
ity that shocked a natnre where jnstice reigned snpreme. 
It rankled more and more in her mind, althongh she 
treated him with as mnch sweetness of manner as 
formerly. She conld not forget it and she felt that 
there might he a point of forbearance beyond which 
she conld not go. She was very positive when once 
aronsed and once her sense of Jnstice was trampled npon 


LcfC. 


lOO 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


too far, she knew she would not bear it and she studied 
to put off the fatal day, hoping she might get away 
without a serious break, for now her whole happiness 
seemed to center in him, and to go home feeling she had 
lost him as well as everything that made life seem 
pleasant to her, was more than she could bear. 

But the storm fell one day with the fury of a cyclone. 
Some luckless word of hers threw him into such a 
passion, causing him to so forget himself, she felt her 
dignity had been trampled upon too far, and thereon 
must be a final separation. 

She dismissed him from her presence with dignity 
and decision, and closed that chapter of her life with 
less regret than she could have supposed possible. She 
had been very much tried. 

It was on the eve of her departure and she summoned 
all her fortitude for she grieved to leave her kind aunt 
and uncle lonely again, knowing how they would miss 
her. 

Once settled in the train, however, the farewells 
over and nothing to sustain her courage, the pall settled 
over her. She was not given to weeping, tears rarely 
came to her, but the blackness of darkness was over her 
soul, not a ray of light penetrated the gloom, and she 
wished she had the courage to jump from the train 
and be dashed to pieces upon the rocks; but she was 
not cowardly enough for that. She knew this trial had 
a meaning for her and she struggled bravely to rise 
above the gloom and be able to meet her friends with 
composure and hide from every eye her grief. Here 
we will leave her to pursue her lonely journey. 


TOI 


Mr. and Mrs. Stanley. 

To Mr. Gordon the separation was simply maddening. 
He knew the fault was his, and his eyes were opened 
to all he had lost, though he could not see how it had 
come. His restlessness and anger at he knew not what, 
were something fearful. He felt too irritated to talk 
to anyone, and yet he could not bear to he alone. He 
fulfilled his duties through the day as best he could, 
but when his mind was released at night he walked 
and walked himself into utter weariness, and was 
assisted to bed by his valet in a state of such physical 
fatigue he could but sleep, though fitfully and with 
distressing dreams of Margaret, going over and over 
in his sleep the gist of his thought during the day. 
He tried to seek companionship, but all women failed 
to inspire him with interest and men only increased his 
irritation. 

He hungered for Margaret. One moment he thought 
he would take a train for her home at once, and compel 
her to forgive him, but he dared not, and was, moreover, 
much too proud to acknowledge that he was wrong. 
The next moment he was ready to curse her for resent- 
ing words she ought to know he did not mean, and said 
to himself time and time again that he had supposed 
she was the one woman that could understand a man, 
and had sense enough to know that he did not mean any 
offense to her, but was irritated and just let out his 
feelings without thinking she would be offended. She 
knew he loved her better than anyone else in the world. 

It is a singular fact that men who have the instincts 
of gentlemen, who are polished and cultured, and have 
noble traits of character, will (as it were) seize upon the 


102 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


woman they love and mentally make her so one with 
himself, he includes her in the abuse he puts upon him- 
self from lack of consideration and self-restraint and 
loses sight of the fact that it is not possible for another 
person to injure him so much as he hurts himself by 
harboring and ‘^acting out^^ feelings of irritation and 
anger. 

Mr. Gordon had indulged himself in this so long 
that his whole nature and mental vision was warped 
and he did not realize he was abusing Margaret as well 
as himself, because he held her so much one with him- 
self. 

Occultists explain this by saying the two are twin 
halves of one Soul, getting their experience through 
differentiation into sex life, and the man being more 
positive on the earth plane, is the aggressor. 

We will now leave our hero to fight it out alone with 
the God of his own nature. 


CHAPTER IX. 


Corinne’s Reception.— What Is Love?— Corinne’s Happiness. 

—Tom’s Mistake.— Margaret at Home. 

Pketty Corinne was flitting about in her garden from 
flower to flower plucking here and there the choicest 
to All her basket, for she had invited friends for the 
evening, and Tom was to be there. Her (to her) grave 
brother, too, was to be present, and she wished every- 
thing to be faultless in his eyes : so she was arranging 
with her own hands the flowers that were to All the 
rooms with their fragrance, and weaving in her thoughts 
as pretty a romance as ever came from the pen of our 
ablest writers. She intended her romance to blossom 
into a reality. Its hero was to be Tom and she was to 
be the heroine for she had discovered she loved Tom, 
and as she studied him from day to day, she felt sure 
he loved no other, and he was so familiar and kind she 
built her hopes high and longed for the time when he 
should tell her of the love he nust feel for her. She 
knew nothing of curly haired Rena up in the hills and 
did not dream she had a rival. Pretty, spoiled Corinne : 
the great heart of Tom does indeed seem big enough 
for two, but how shall he be divided ? 

He thought of Corinne only as the petted daughter of 
his employer and the sister of his best friend. His 
familiarity in the family kept him near her a good deal 

103 


104 Currents and Undercurrents. 

and he delighted to make her happy as he did every 
one whom he knew. He had no other thought with re- 
gard to her. He would have shielded her from harm 
as if she was his own sister even at the risk of his 
life. She was pleasant, hut impulsive and imperious, 
and exacted much of him that he readily gave : in fact 
he quite enjoyed being put upon and made errand boy, 
but he did not dream of any tie nearer than the one that 
now existed between them. 

The evening came as all much-longed-for evenings do, 
and dark eyed Corinne was radiant in a gold colored 
India silk with just a touch of lace to give it piquancy 
and relieve the sheen; a bunch of white rosebuds in her 
corsage and a dear love of a one with its setting of 
green leaves in her hair. She was very beautiful and 
she knew it, and thought Tom could not fail to succumb 
to so much loveliness. She resolved to put him into 
such a position he could not well avoid coming to the 
jDoint. 

Corinne inherited from her French mother, a wily 
and unscrupulous nature, and did not hesitate to bring 
about what she so much desired, by a well laid little 
plan. 

Her guests were scattered about the house and 
grounds. Those who desired were dancing, others 
strolling among the shrubbery, sitting in lovers’ corn- 
ers on the broad piazza, or eating ices in the brilliantly 
lighted dining-room. 

Corinne who had been dancing, had dismissed her 
partner when she saw Tom approaching and had im- 


Corinne’s Reception, 105 

periously ordered him to bring her an ice and stay with 
her while she ate it. She had seated herself on a 
garden seat in a secluded corner and waited, tapping her 
tiny foot upon the floor with impatience and anxiety: 
she felt that now was the time to bring Tom to terms. 
Her heart fluttered tumultuously lest she might fail, 
for how could she be sure he loved her. He was so 
different from other men, one could not calculate on 
him with any certainty. 

The cream was brought, and, seated very close to- 
gether (for she had purposely chosen a narrow seat) 
they ate it and chatted on indifferent subjects. 

^^Do you know Helen Simpson is engaged to Charles 
Ward?’^ asked Corinne. ^‘Ho, indeed! He is to be 
congratulated, is he not T’ said Tom. 

^^Oh yes, I suppose so. Tom, what is love like ? Did 
you ever love any one T* And the beautiful girl looked 
artlessly up into Tom’s face leaning slightly towards 
him as he sat with his arm thrown carelessly across the 
back of the seat. 

^‘What is love,” he said, ignoring, her last question. 
^^Well now I am afraid you ask me too much. How 
should I know ?” 

^“^But you must have an idea. What do you think it 
is ?” 

^Terhaps I never thought much about it.” 

^^Oh yes you have, I am sure. Everyone does. Do 
you think one person can love another dearly and not 
be aware of it until something startling comes to wake 
him up to it ?” 


io6 Currents and Undercurrents. 

^^Yes, I suppose that might he. We read of such 
cases in hooks, and I suppose most hooks are taken from 
real life.^^ 

‘^Well, do tell me what your idea of love is. I want 
to know how you would feel if you loved any one. 
Come now, I will have it. I command you, and you 
must ohey.^’ 

^^If I must, then, I must,” said Tom. His mind 
suddenly flooded with the image of Eena. ^Tf I loved, 
I should he so fllled and pervaded with the life of a 
woman, I should not be able to separate her from 
myself. She would have grown with me, kept her mind 
parallel to mine, had the same thoughts and feelings 
from her feminine standpoint that I had, if we were 
in separate corners of the globe, or if we had always 
lived near each other. 

^^She would have been a part of my life, perhaps, long 
before wq met, and if she were near I should have 
measured and timed myself by her growth. In my 
inner life, I should not know whether it were she or I 
who was thinking. I should have to question in which 
mind a thought originated, I should feel myself so in 
unison with her. Perhaps I should attribute all my 
faults to her and her virtues to myself. I should feel 
a dim rapture when in her presence or when my thought 
was directed to her. I should thrill through and 
through all my being at the touch of her hand.” (He 
did not notice that a little hand crept silently into his, 
and that the breath of his companion came quick and 
short, for he was on the hill with Rena.) ^^Her head 
upon my shoulder would give me ecstasy.” (The head 


Corinne’s Reception. 107 

slid to his shoulder.) ^^And with my arms about her 
it would be all the heaven I desire.^^ Carried away with 
his vision, Tom clasped his fair companion in a close 
embrace. Corinne was enchanted, and folded her arms 
about his neck with an ^^Oh Tom!” and pressed her 
warm lips to his, happy beyond expression at her easy 
conquest, for she really believed she was the object of 
Tom^s rhapsody. 

The pressure of her lips, the ecstatic expression of 
her face awoke him to present life. In an instant he 
saw what he had done. He was paralyzed. He could 
no more move than the ^^rock of ages.” Merciful God 1 
what had he done? Corinne, satisfied and happy, 
kissed and petted him to her heart’s content, and let 
overflow the full measure of her joy; and he sat with 
his arms clasped about her, dumb, taking in the situa- 
tion, realizing her love for him and his mistake, and 
knowing, while a leaden weight settled over him and 
filled the air and clouded the sky, that he could not 
undeceive her, thinking he would be a coward and 
craven to enlighten her now. Could he break her heart, 
she, the sister of his friend, the daughter of a man who 
had done so much for him? 

But Eena! what of her? She whom he had loved 
ever since he could remember and who he well knew 
loved him, though no words of love ever passed between 
them. God forgive him. He could not stay. He must 
get away to think. Summoning all his strength and 
courage he controlled himself enough to make proper 
excuses and tore himself away. 

In abject misery he paced the streets all night long. 


io8 Currents and Undercurrents. 

No solution came. He could see but the one way. But, 
his duty to Eena ? Had he a right to wreck her life ? — 
that life dearer to him than his own; that which was 
his own, in fact. What would she think ! He had only 
to put himself in her place and ask himself. He knew 
she would tell him he was bound in honor, not to 
Corinne alone but to the family who had been most 
generous and kind, and who he knew would be more 
than gratified to have him one of them. Could he do it ? 
Could he dissemble ? Could he live a lie ? Could he 
act a part all his life ? Could he so school himself that 
he would not make Corinne more unhappy than to tell 
her now? 

He thought of her as he had never thought before. 
He tried to analyze her character. He threw the 
glamour of inexperience over her and remembered her 
sweetness when not ^^crossed’^ and her kittenish, child- 
like, undeveloped mind and hoped much for her in the 
future. 

It seems not so difficult to a young man to play the 
lover to a pretty young girl whom he respects, even 
though he does not adore her, and Tom found less un- 
happiness in the situation than he had thought possible. 
Her happiness reflected upon his mind and mirrored it 
in his life. In his thought he put the day of marriage 
far off. Corinne was young and he not settled in life. 
She was content, and he hoped for some happy change 
while he enjoyed the ‘^good the gods gave him,^^ man 
fashion. 

His letters to Eena took a friendly tone and since no 
word of love had passed between them she did not notice 


Corinne's Reception. 109 

any change, and so time which never stops, ran on, the 
days grew into weeks and months, and life abode with 
them still. 

Margaret^s arrival was a cause of much joy in the 
Hill farmhouse. They were so pleased and proud to 
have such a fine lady (as they called her) at home 
again. It was Margaret, but not the old Margaret, 
the same and yet how changed. She went away a tired, 
worn out farmer^s daughter, she returned a glorious 
woman, cultured and refined; but that was not all the 
change; a subtle something they could not understand 
was there. Much was gained, but something was lost; 
they could not define it. She was the same in all her 
loving, tender, helpful ways, but her former buoyancy 
had gone, and they missed it. So much of her still re- 
mained, however, they set it down to city life and 
tried to forget it. 

She was not allowed to take up her share of the 
work until she got ‘Vonted” as her mother said. She 
had been shut up in the city so long she must have 
time to get acquainted with the hills again, and Rena 
said Madge might take Bounce and roam, she was the 
elder sister now. 

Margaret was very glad to do this for awhile. Her 
heart was sore, for the pain of parting with her friends 
was greatly enhanced by her break with Mr. Gordon 
and she wanted to think it all out. 

She knew she had not been wrong, and that nothing 
more or less than what she did would have answered 
the requirements of the case. If it were not so, an 
occasional wrong on her part might have been over- 


no 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


looked, since she had so often had to forgive him. She 
knew him to be a noble man and a gentleman, courteous 
to ladies always; why then should he treat her in such 
a manner. No solution came, and the everlasting ques- 
tion was always revolving in her mind until she finally 
concluded -that her country breeding had given him a 
license he did not dare take with the city bred ladies. 
She had not heard Tom^s idea of love, men’s love, and 
she did not know that a man holds a woman he loves 
so much his own as to treat her as brusquely as he 
would himself. Nothing else suggested itself to her, — 
what could she think? The consequence was, her re- 
spect for him went down to zero. She could not recon- 
cile it with what ^he knew of him. She was grievously 
disappointed, his quarrelsomeness seemed so childish 
and undignified, selfish and unjust. Alas ! here was her 
‘‘Grand Man,” her ideal, trailing in the dust like any 
common place mortal. Her faith in the nobility of 
man was shattered. 

As yet she could not see beneath the surface, her 
mind was so sore. She only looked for something to 
deaden the pain. She was astonished that this love had 
taken such a hold upon her, she could not esc pe it for 
an hour even. She was dismayed. She was brave, 
however, and all her sturdy New England training 
stood by her in this crisis. Her life in the home was 
taken up as of old, though Eena contested with her the 
rights, and they shared the burdens together, leaving 
the dear mother more leisure and comfort. 

Yet in spite of all her philosophy her mental agony 
was great. She could not ignore the fine points in Mr. 


Ill 


Corinne^s Reception. 

Gordon^s character, and she could not understand the 
contradictions and incongruities; he was to her an 
anomaly. Sometimes a stream of tenderness came over 
her, she blamed herself for minding his vagaries, and 
longed for him unutterably; she could recall only the 
happy hours, and felt it bitterly hard to he separated 
from him; hut really that was nothing, if she could 
only have believed in him. 

Alas, alas ! how difficult is life. 

Mr. Gordon was all this time in a state bordering on 
insanity. His own anger and self-reproach made him 
miserable, and the fluctuations of Margaret^s mind as 
they reached him, made him more miserable or more 
comfortable as the case might be. His own thoughts 
as they flew back to her, established a mental telegraph 
with which time and space cannot interfere. His rest- 
lessness and misery were complete. Neither he nor she 
understood that thought so completely annihilated time 
and space, and both believed they were living in 
thoughts generated in their own minds independent of 
each other. 

Rena was looking forward with impatience to the 
time when Tom would come home again, and planning 
many a little, pleasant trip with him, among which was 
one to explore the mountain for the lovers’ cave she had 
been told of, but had never found; and quite uncon- 
sciously she had built her little romance upon the trip 
and the suggestive lover’s story. 

She revelled in Tom’s letters which were scrupulously 
friendly (without her noticing it) and very entertain- 
ing, for writing to her was his delight, and he longed 


II2 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


to make amends to her in some small measure for what 
she would deem his treachery. 

Much as he wished to see her, he dared not trust 
himself, and hoped against hope that something might 
happen to release him from his unpleasant predicament. 

Corinne, alone was happy; she tyrannized over Tom, 
and loved and petted him and looked up to him in a 
manner most satisfactory to the male mind, and only 
for Eena he would have been comfortably happy. 

But Eena was there; a constant reproach to him; his 
love, his very life, and his torment, and at times he felt 
he could not hear it. 

Meantime the work of the outward world went on 
just the same and no one saw the heartaches and 
miseries under the quiet exterior. 


CHAPTEE X. 


Herbert Coming Home at Night. — Woman’s Shrieks. — 
Ruffians. — Rescue. — Removed to Hospital. — Langley 
“Spotted.”— Assault— Arrest— Hospital. 

Herbert Laistgley pursued the even tenor of his way 
undisturbed by the fluctuations of life, being engrossed 
in business and philanthropic work. His father leaned 
upon him and left things to his judgment more and 
more, and no particular thought of love or extraordi- 
nary friendship had so far disturbed him. His spare 
moments were occupied in writing a hook upon 
economics that absorbed him and kept him from 
thoughts and experiences that come to most men of his 
age. His studies were constant in one direction, and 
every experience in his daily life or that of those around 
him was made to play its part in the one great subject 
that occupied his mind. 

One cold rainy evening as he was returning from a 
public meeting in the lower quarters of the city, his 
steps were arrested by a scream from a tenement house 
near by. 

He stopped to listen, but all was still. He was about 
to pass on when a second shriek rang out on the air 
and he started in search of the voice. 

He threw open the door of the house and hurriedly 
ascended the stairs for the noises proceeded from an 

113 


1 14 Currents and Undercurrents. 

upper room. On the second landing he found a child 
crouching in terror, who, upon seeing him cried, ^^Oh, 
sir, they will kill her ! They will kill her, do help her ! 
In there, in there!” He burst open the door to find 
two men in a desperate struggle with a woman, who 
frail and delicate as she was, seemed possessed of the 
strength of a giant. Instantly he drew a pistol which 
he always carried for emergencies, and covering the 
men with it, commanded them to leave the woman 
alone, and demanded to know what they were about. 

Seeing they wero powerless before so determined an, 
adversary, they sullenly stood aside, having dropped 
the woman upon the fioor where she lay as one dead. 
Langley called for the child to get a policeman, never 
moving his eyes or his pistol from the wretches. 

They did not stir, for the determined look of the 
man made them sure he would shoot if they moved. 
Besides they knew him, as most of the people in that 
quarter did, and his courage and severity to wrong- 
doers was well understood. The men knew also that 
their chances of safety were' much better in submission 
than in effort to escape. 

Soon the police were there and the pistol was no 
longer needed. The prostrate woman was taken up 
and laid upon the bed and restoratives applied. The 
child, a girl of twelve years, was most efficient now, 
and from her they gathered their story. 

Her mother had been brought up in affluence, but 
had married contrary to the wishes of her father. 

(Alas ! how many lives are wrecked by the arrogance, 
self-will and injustice of fathers and relatives, who for 


Herbert to the Rescue. 


115 


some foolish ambition or pride wreck the lives of those 
they should protect. Kindly advice and suggestion are 
always acceptable, but coercion is not only sure to fail, 
but it reacts upon those who tyrannize. Individual 
rights are sacred, and if persons elect to do what will 
make them unhappy in the future, the only way is to 
accord them their right to do this, for through our 
mistakes and suffering comes the development that 
lifts us up higher. Coercion in any line always causes 
misery, and one can do no more than be miserable from 
his own mistakes. Then let us consider individual 
rights to make mistakes even, as sacred.) Despite their 
grief at the continued opposition of the father, things 
went well with the young couple until the husband 
sickened, and after a long illness that exhausted all 
their resources, died and left them alone in want and 
misery. The unfortunate woman had managed to 
keep soul and body together by sewing, cleaning, and 
any odd jobs she could find, and had kept the little Flora 
at school. They had been obliged to take a cheap room 
in this neighborhood, which was very obnoxious to her 
refined ‘tastes, and they had kept themselves secluded, 
associating with no one unless obliged to, and then as 
little as possible. 

This exclusiveness had incensed the neighbors, who 
as is proverbial with this class, felt looked down upon 
and resented it in many ways exceedingly disagreeable, 
but which were passed by in silence. The women in 
the house had become so incensed at the apparent in- 
sensibility to the attempts to annoy her they could talk 
of little else, and the men of the neighborhood took it 


ii6 Currents and Undercurrents. 

up, and these two ruffians had determined to wreak their 
will and humble her pride. In her absence they had 
tampered with the lock on the door, and when she had, 
as she supposed, securely locked herself in her room 
and gone to sleep, they entered and waking her roughly 
attempted to accomplish their purpose. This caused 
the first scream Langley heard, and the second was from 
the child when they dragged her to the floor. Flora ran 
to the landing in search of help, but the house was 
suspiciously still and no one came till she heard Lang- 
ley’s step on the stair. 

The stupor into which the woman was thrown proved 
obstinate. A policeman hastily summoned a doctor, 
who having learned the facts said she must be removed 
to the hospital at once as the shock had been so great 
it would not do for her to regain consciousness in that 
room where the assault would be brought to her mind 
again and cause a relapse that would probably prove 
fatal. The ambulance was hastily summoned and with 
the weeping child she was taken away at once, leaving 
her few effects to be looked after by the police. 

Long and earnest were the attempts to restore her, 
but for days she lingered unconscious until hope was 
almost abandoned. The seventh day, however, she 
opened her eyes in which shone the light of reason 
and recognized her child, who was beside herself with 
joy, and then relapsed into unconsciousness again, re- 
maining in this condition for days. The little Flora 
was inconsolable; she had grown so wan and weak, 
steadily refusing to leave her mother’s side, that it 
was deemed necessary to remove her, and Langley who 


Herbert to the Rescue. 


117 


had been a frequent visitor at the hospital, undertook 
the difficult task of persuading her to go home with him 
that her grief might not retard her mother’s recovery. 
This he succeeded in doing after repeated efforts, and 
his mother and sister did all in their power to make the 
little waif feel at home and comfortable. She was 
allowed to be with her mother a few minutes each day. 
And so the case lingered until one day three weeks from 
the time of the assault the patient again regained con- 
sciousness, and though much emaciated and very weak, 
she made slow but steady progress. Long days and 
weeks passed before she was convalescent. Then came 
the question where she should go. The Langley family 
had become much attached to the little Flora who was a 
bright, affectionate child, and Corinne suggested that 
as the preparations for her marriage came on a seam- 
stress would be needed and Mrs. Burton had better come 
there and do the sewing until some other position was 
made for her. This proposal was made to Mrs. Burton 
and Joyfully accepted. 

Young Langley was ^^spotted” by the man whose 
plans he had frustrated and one night as he was going 
home from the house of a sick man whom he had be- 
friended, a stealthy step came up from behind him, 
and when he came to a dark place a heavy blow fell 
upon his head, and he dropped to the pavement in- 
sensible. An accomplice of the ruffian who struck the 
blow came up, and they dragged the unconscious man 
to a cellar close by, where they left him for dead, taking 
everything about him they could safely carry. 

guess that dom bloke is done fur/’ said one of the 


it8 Currents and Undercurrents. 

ruffians to the other. ^^He won^t put his mug in our 
picnic agin^ in a hurry, dom him. Sarved him right 
by Gawd, he’s no biz monkeyin’ with a buzzsaw and 
don’t you fergit it. He’ll find, blarst him, he’d better 
mind his own biz and not be cornin’ it over us with 
his little pop; when us fellers mind to take down a 
dom’d upstart of a wench thet’s bin settin’ the hull 
block a bilin’ with her highfalutin’ we most gin’r’ly git 
thar’n don’t mind to be meddled with. She’s as poor 
as any on us and no better’n my old ’un thet she 
wouldn’t wipe her shoes on. I wish I’d smashed her 
dom’d head before the Jim Dandy got thar, only thet 
would er spilt our fun; he’s got his settlin’ now any- 
how, he won’t do no more interferin’ I guess. We’re 
the ffiummin’ candy,’ hey Bill?” 

^^Say Bob,” said Bill, ^ffio you spoze he’s dead? If 
he is we’d better light out’en here ’er the cops ’ll be after 
us. They’d nab us coz they knows we had a grudge 
agin him.” 

^^Thet’s so*. Bill, we must light out en here, sure nuf. 
Ther cums a cop now,” and they rushed down a side 
street out of sight. 

Their movements had been watched by a sharp pair 
of eyes though in a small head, for a forlorn waif of a 
boy, taking his night’s rest — if rest it could be called — 
in an old box that in daylight served as a table for an 
apple woman, and as his sleeping room nights, heard 
what the men were talking about as they had uncon- 
sciously halted close by his nest, and peeping through 
a crack he saw and recognized the men. In an instant 
he was out of his box beckoning to the policeman and 


Herbert to the Rescue. 119 

darting down the alley his bare feet making no noise, 
he saw the pair as they entered a hon^e which they 
went through, came out again at the rear and climbed 
a fence which happened to be high enough to take a 
little time, and just as the lad had pointed the way 
the policemen unseen came up and caught both men 
by the legs while they were in such a position that 
neither could see what held them, or move one way or 
the other. 

It was naturally dark where the policeman and boy 
stood, but the men were shown in bold relief by a 
gas light near, and caught the eye of another ^^servaiit 
of the people’’ on the other street, who noticing some- 
thing peculiar, appeared on the scene in time to give 
aid. Both the men were securely bound and then the 
officers proceeded to find what was wrong. 

The boy related what he had heard, and after the 
men were put in a safe place the officers proceeded to 
look for the unfortunate man who had suffered at their 
hands. Led by the boy they found him with little 
trouble, but to all appearance he was dead. 

Lifting him carefully they took him to the sidewalk, 
and after a little while a slight fiuttering of the pulse 
was perceptible; a few drops of brandy were adminis- 
tered and he rallied a little. He was carefully lifted 
into the hastily summoned ambulance and taken to the 
nearest hospital where he was speedily restored to con- 
sciousness, though he was very feeble and his condi- 
tion precarious. 

It was now broad daylight and a messenger was dis- 
patched to Tom who in an agony of apprehension hast- 


120 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


ened to the hospital. He was not allowed to see his 
friend, but learned all he could and taking the first 
carriage he could find, drove rapidly to the house of 
Mr. Langley to communicate the sad tidings to his 
family. 

Great was the consternation of the young man’s 
friends. The physician’s orders were strict that only 
Mr. Langley should be allowed to come to the hospital 
as the patient’s condition was so critical. This left the 
poor women at home in a state of anxiety easier 
imagined than described. 

Mrs. Burton was of all the most beside herself, for 
she knew very well that this misfortune was the result 
of her gallant rescue and she was agonized at the 
thought of bringing such trouble to her generous 
friends, but nothing could be done. She could only 
pray to a merciful God to restore life and health to her 
benefactor. 


CHAPTER XI. 


Mr. and Mrs. Stanley’s Conversation.— Thought Transfer- 
ence.— Hypnotism.— Woman.— Margaret. 

The pleasant family room of the Stanleys was alight 
with a bright grate fire, gas jets, and the happy and 
eager face of Mrs. Stanley as she sat with her easy 
chair drawn close to her husband’s for their evening 
tete-a-tete. It was their invariable custom to take 
this hour for a restful chat, and any topic of interest 
that had come to them through the day was discussed 
^%d libitum.” Today Mrs. Stanley had fallen in with 
friends who talked of the all-absorbing subject of the 
present day, throught transference, or hypnotism, and 
she wished to relate the substance of what she had 
heard to her husband. 

“What have you got hold of now, my dear? You 
women are digging away at abstruse problems, while 
we men are so immersed in business cares, we have no 
time for study. I, for one, should be quite an ig- 
noramus if you did not hunt up the new things to 
tell me.” 

“Xo danger of that, dear, but is not that what we are 
for, to supply you men with what you need, whether 
it be breakfasts, or instruction? If all men looked at 
it as you do, it would be a different and much pleas- 
anter world, for women at least. 


121 


12.2 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


once this subject could be grasped by men, that 
is, if men would lay aside their prejudices and accept 
our help where they need it most, what a difference 
it would make. The trouble is they have made a 
^sphere^ for woman. Her ^sphere^ is where she can be 
the most useful, I think. And as there is no superior- 
ity in sex, each being the half of one whole, one just as 
important as the other, and both in search of knowl- 
edge, of a development that must come through the 
experiences and sufferings of earth life, why create a 
^sphere’ for either? But I have wandered far away 
from my subject.” 

“It is an instructive and pleasant side issue for me, 
I would like to hear more about it.” 

“Some other time, dear, I wish to tell you this first, 
about Thought transference’ or ^hypnotism.’ ” 

“Well, I am ready to listen, for all your subjects 
are very absorbing and full of interest for me and very 
restful. If the ^ordinary man’ only knew what rest 
and recuperation came from giving himself up to an 
hour’s intelligent conversation with his wife, none of 
them would forego it.” 

“But, George, men are so jealous of us, they will not 
allow that they can be taught by a woman!” 

“I suppose that is true, hut if you will he patient 
with us we shall come to it after a while.” 

“There is something to he thankful for, dearie, in 
being sure of one that has already arrived at that goal, 
as I am. Why, George, one of the broadest and most 
intelligent men I know, still insists upon the Superior- 
ity of man over woman.” 


Thought Transference. 123 

^^Well, pity him, and let him go; he’ll learn better 
if he is really an intelligent man. Now about the 
^thought transference.’ I am all eagerness. Some- 
times I have a few minutes’ leisure during business 
distractions and my mind is sure to run away to some 
of your new theories, and it freshens me wonderfully.” 

^^How glad I am you told me, it makes me so happy. 
It really takes very little to make a woman happy, 
did you know it?” 

^^Yes, I can bear witness to that.” 

^^Well, dear, I think none of us realize how All Mind is 
One,’ that we all thinh out of an atmosphere as well 
as breathe out of one. Now as that is true, we see that 
you do not have your portion of atmosphere and 1 
mine, but we can roam through space (as it were) and 
take any of the different elements of which the atmos- 
phere is composed that is needful to us, and rob no 
one, for there’s enough for all. So in mind; all mind 
is alike except in degree of development, and like two 
drops of water, if put into juxtaposition, they will run 
together and become one; as, just now, we are of one 
mind since our thoughts are concentrated on one sub- 
ject, because I am imparting something to you that 
you wish to know. Mind is the same, only I am 
changing its quality by introducing another element 
of knowledge. 

^^Now if I can add to, I can, of course, subtract from 
what you call your mind; I can take from it a positive 
quality and add a negative one if I wish to gain some 
selfish end by it; I can do this consciously, that is 
with a purpose, or unconsciously, from an unrealized 


124 Currents and Undercurrents. 


desire. When I do either of these I hypnotise you, 
overpower you, make you subservient to my wishes.” 

^‘ISTow, wait, my dear, that is so stupendously simple, 
it takes my breath. This much-vaunted hypnotism — 
only that! And yet how far-reaching and compre- 
hensive it is; its ramifications are endless. I see it in 
business life, in the family, in the nation, and the 
world over, for that matter. 

^^Yes, it certainly is awe-inspiring, and the difficulty 
is how to use this power to the world^s advantage.” 

^^But you must have some practical ideas about it.” 

^^Oh, yes, but not many; the foundation is right- 
thinking and unselfishness. But let us see something 
of how it is used today. Man is, in the universal 
plan of life upon the earth plane, the positive element, 
because the plane of materiality is masculine; he is in 
closer rapport with the elements of earth life and more 
open to its magnetic currents. Woman is negative to 
earth, but positive to spirit. This gives equilibrium 
to the Universe; but, on the earth plane she is at odds 
with life. This has given man the power to control 
and tyrannize over her without any willful intention of 
so doing; it has blinded his perception and understand- 
ing of his own position and hers. Naturally he has 
confined her to a ^sphere^ and held her as an inferior. 

^^Now in the great Universal plan. Matter is the nega- 
tive and Spirit the positive; Spirit is the Life, Matter a 
crystalized condition of Spirit emanations. Matter is 
in a condition of evolution, an imperfection in search 
of a Icnowledge of its way hach to its home in Spirit. Thus 
you see, the more spiritual a life is, the nearer to the 


Thought Transference. 125 

Perfect life it comes. And woman is ont of her element 
in earth life, and consequently must suffer more and 
struggle harder than man, but once freed from the 
body, the reverse is the case. She is farther on her 
journey than man. 

^^Woman is compelled to he more unselfish than 
man, because here on earth, she is, from the nature of 
things, subservient to man, on account of his magnetic 
power over her. But spirit power is unseen, and in 
reality woman controls man through his psychic life. 
Man is often aware of this and willing to acknowledge 
it, hut he does not understand why, or how. 

^^Now when man arrives at an understanding of the 
case and a degree of development that will enable him 
to see the way, which he must put away his egotism to 
do, and is willing woman shall have as much freedom 
to choose her ^sphere^ as he has to choose his, and both 
drift where they belong, the problem is solved as far as 
it can be, here ; for this life is necessarily imperfect and 
must ever be; but we increase the necessary suffering 
by our egotism, our bigotry, our general blindness, and 
above all, our selfishness.” 

^^The case is perfectly clear to me. It opens up a 
field of thought that will occupy me many a day; but 
you must rest now, you have not thought how tense 
and eager you were. Let us go to the theatre and 
relax our minds.” 

This theory was clearly demonstrated in Margaret 
Stanley and Mr. Gordon. They were so much in 
harmony, that it was impossible for them to live apart. 
There is no space or distance to thought. All space is 


126 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


mind, and all mind is one, a unit. The nature of mind 
is not changed when it is individualized, and personal 
absence does not mean mental separation. 

The thought of each was constantly dwelling on the 
other. A monotone, a moaning current like that of 
the sea, was an abiding presence with them. 'No matter 
how many were present, no matter how much enter- 
tained or how happy, each was necessary to the other 
to make happiness complete. Invisible arms were ever 
reaching out from each to the other. Even while the 
conduct of the surface life was in many ways un- 
congenial to each other, even temper-trying and hateful, 
still that intense longing and restless yearning remains 
for something undefined, that could only be satisfied 
by the complement of the other. 

Margarets soul yearned for the presence of Mr. Gor- 
don; and he with less patience, — ^never being used to 
having his will curbed except by his own desire — was 
simply mad; quite beside himself with the irritation of 
feeling that he himself was the cause of the separa- 
tion and foolishly and needlessly, too. 

He saw, though dimly, how his love of power, his 
sense of ownership, had led him to give rein to his 
temper, and to be most unreasonable; while yet he had 
no claim upon her except that he loved her and in his 
own thought had appropriated her without as much as 
saying, ^fi)y your leave.^^ In short he had treated 
Margaret just as he did himself, for no one abuses us 
as much as we abuse ourselves with our tempers and 
unreasonableness; and because he felt so much at one 


Thought Transference. 127 

with her, he could not realize where his own individ- 
uality left off and hers began. 

If things did not go to please him, he generally 
stormed and raged within himself. Or, if he was 
grieved, he descended into deepest despondency, seeing 
life at its gloomiest, turning it over constantly and 
dwelling upon it, finally laying himself out with a head- 
ache that racked his body as much as his mind had been 
torn, and physically impressing upon his other self 
(Margaret) the effect of his agitation and despair; and 
her mind was torn and tossed with an unrest and agony 
she could not at all understand, and that took all her 
fortitude to bear. 

While he was in Margaret’s presence, he had for- 
gotten the rules of politeness he observed before others ; 
by feeling her so much himself, he had acted out the 
inner self he was so careful to conceal from others. 

He had been grieved and annoyed at the thought of 
her leaving him, and instead of trying to induce her 
to stay, by being more kind, and making himself more 
attractive and desirable as a companion, he had shown 
the worst side of himself, and by so doing had hastened 
the very thing he was most anxious to avoid, and had 
laid the blame at her door most unreasonably. Of 
course he was astonished at her want of penetration in 
not seeing it was all because he loved her and desired 
her so much. 

Some men are so impressed with their own dignity 
and importance they forget the Golden Eule, ^To unto 
others as ye would they should do to you,” and withhold 
any demonstration of affection from the woman they 


128 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


love (at the same time exacting it from her in the 
highest degree), only when he is pursuing her and un- 
certain of his ^%ame/^ — for do not men regard women 
as game? I know it sounds coarse when one says it, 
but is it not literally true? 

But alas ! How artful is the average man. Does he 
think it worth his while to pay her the little sponta- 
neous attentions so highly prized? When the net is 
securely drawn around her and he thinks she is his 
own, then his dignity asserts itself and she must do 
the adoring, he can no longer take the trouble. No 
thought of what is agreeable to her enters his head, 
even when he really loves her, and would be most 
miserable without her. Such men always choose the 
affectionate and demonstrative wives, and then de- 
liberately chill their hearts out and keep them ^^dis- 
solved in tears^^ if they are that kind, or frozen into 
indignation and final indifference. 

Oh, man, man! It take so little to make a woman 
happy, — a little thoughtfulness for her tastes and com- 
fort, a few affectionate words that are well deserved. 
It is so little. If you had pursued this course with your 
wives and those nearest you, how much clamor for 
woman’s rights would there be, do you think? The 
right to he loved and appreciated is what is denied 
us though we do not realize what it is always; we are 
restless and uneasy because the necessities of our nature 
are with-held us, — constancy, unselfish love, truthful- 
ness and honor, just what is expected of us, is what we 
are seeking for, but most of all, liberty to do that which 
seems to us best, since we cannot have what our natures 


Thought Transference. 119 

most crave. The unnecessary tyrannies of the male 
nature are what we rebel against. 

So Mr. Gordon had widened instead of lessening 
the breach between Margaret and himself, and put her 
^^on her metal’^ to resist him, to hold herself to herself, 
and she did it well, though through her ignorance, with 
much pain and suffering. 

And now she was gone ! she who was the complement 
of his life, his other self; and the worse of it was he had 
not understood when she was with him, how much 
she was to him and what comfort there was in just the 
feeling that she was there when he wanted her though 
he might not see her for days and some other less cared 
for woman had absorbed his attention during that time. 
But now, now ! he could not see her or even hear from 
her ! His grief and rage knew no hounds ! he wandered 
here and there, possessed by the very demon of unrest. 

And what of Margaret? Poor Margaret. She had 
gone back to her home and its solitudes, the deepest of 
all solitudes, that of the Soul. She did not under- 
stand, though she knew more of the inner life than he 
did. 

She was bewildered. Comparatively unacquainted 
with the ways of men, she now entirely misunderstood 
his character and was smarting under the sense of his 
injustice to her, and surprised at his exhibition of sel- 
fishness. He whom she had looked up to as the soul 
of honor, chivalry and refinement, he had been ab- 
solutely right-down vulgar; had done what any hod- 
carrier or coal-heaver might, been brutal to her, and 
worst of all; laid all the blame to her; she who was so 


130 Currents and Undercurrents. 

innocent, and had all along borne blame that belonged 
to him. Ugh! it fairly made her shiver. How had 
she failed, — what had she done, — how he conld so lower 
himself, — were the ever recurring questions to her. 

If she had yielded to irritation and said disagreeable 
things, it was because he started the hall that way and 
she could not check it at once. She thought she had 
tried the best she could to he gentle and womanly; to 
soothe instead of irritate; as far as she could see, she 
had done nothing incompatable with the strictest rules 
of friendship, and yet she had lost him! She must 
have been wrong some way, hut she could not see how. 

Then sometimes a hot indignation possessed her. 
She saw it as it was; and despised him for his want of 
courtesy and self-control, and in her heart she execrated 
him, shut her teeth hard and declared she would never 
bestow another thought upon one so unworthy. 

Then for a time she had peace. She attended to 
home duties, tried to make people happy, took solid 
comfort in her life as she had before she went from 
home, and before Mr. Langley had opened her eyes to 
the world. 


CHAPTER XII. 


Growth of Bington.— Andrew.— Gordon Starts to See 
Margaret.— Repents— Returns.— Mental Telepathy. 

The growth of a community is peculiar. Its people 
plod along in a humdrum way, chewing the cud of 
contentment for years, knowing or thinking nothing 
beyond their every day lives and the ways of their 
grandfathers; until some auspicious day a stranger 
ventures among them with a fresh breath from the 
outer world and plants a new idea, and lo! in a short 
space of time the diminutive seed he has planted has 
grown to a tree, under the branches of which sit the 
advanced thinkers to plan new ways and means, and 
the quiet little country town is soon growing into a 
busy village. The law of evolution obtains, and the 
staid old world moves for them as well as for others. 
So it was with the little town of Bington, where the 
everlasting hills towered high above, and everlasting 
monotony had reigned supreme over all their heads, and 
the placid river had flowed broad, deep and idly at their 
feet for ages. 

Andrew had also imbibed from Mr. Langley the 
spirit of unrest, but he did not care to go away from 
his native hills, or leave his father alone in his ad- 
vancing years. However, he could not give up all his 
life to farming, he must have a broader fleld, he must 

131 


132 Currents and Undercurrents. 

mix with men, join the business world and keep pace 
with life. So he utilized the lazy old river, set it a 
task and made it work like the rest of the world. He 
built a factory for the construction of farming imple- 
ments, a manufactory of hardware. 

Then workmen must be procured, homes built for 
them and stores opened where they could buy needful 
things. These started other projects till what had 
been a staid old farming town was now a busy and 
rapidly growing place. 

Margaret and Kena took up new interests, for the 
whole town was astir. Everyone, man, woman and 
child, was fired with new zeal to do something. So 
Margaret^s hands and heart were full of her everyday 
life. She was busy and happy, but the gnawing worm 
of discontent and loneliness was ever at work and her 
soul wandered as one lost to find its ^^missing link.^^ 

But life strode on. The days flew, and she heard 
nothing from her former friend. Letters from her 
aunt and other friends occasionally spoke of him, but 
she read with an apathy that said to her she had no 
part with him and did not wish to have. Henceforth 
her life was away from his and she so desired it. 

Many months had passed. Mr. Gordon had busied 
himself as best he could, and his ruffled spirit had 
become calmed and disciplined. Many times he had 
thought he would go and see Margaret, learn how she 
felt toward him and ask her to forgive him, fpr now at 
this distance he could better see where he had been at 
fault. In fact he had been aware of it all the while 
but would not acknowledge it to himself, he was too 


Growth of Bington. 


133 


sore and angry. But now he thought he would tell her 
all his mind about it. His need for her was so great he 
would do anything to have her friendship again, to 
even see her occasionally, to talk to her, and perhaps 
after awhile he could so discipline himself he would 
regain her confidence to that extent a nearer tie might 
be possible, for he could not bring himself to tolerate a 
life without her. 

Finally one day, after a restless night he took the 
earliest train that would take him to Margaret, with 
courage high. He thought he would be master of him- 
self and not such a coward. 

But once on the train his view changed. Grave 
doubts came up. He saw her side of the question more 
plainly than he ever had before. How patient she had 
been with him. How she had so often tried to change 
the subject, present it in a different light and so soothe 
his ruffled feelings, but how he, ruffian-like, had per- 
sisted until finally she stood before him in her calm and 
dignified but determined anger and bade him go his 
own way and she would go hers. 

Something in his remembrance of it appalled him. 
No, he could not go to her and meet that look again. 
He knew she was uniformly kind, but he feared him- 
self, feared that he was not strong enough, and if he 
should forget himself and say something rude again 
he knew that would prevent what he so ardently de- 
sired. No, he would go home and wait a little longer, 
and at the next station he left the train and took the 
first one back to the city. 

That morning Margaret awoke with an intense desire 


134 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


to see him. It fairly took her strength away. How 
could she possibly live any longer without him. She 
went about her duties draggingly and heavy-eyed, and 
yet she had slept well and could think of no reason why 
she should feel as she did either mentally or physically. 
But as the day progressed and her mind kept dwelling 
on him she grew indignant at the way he had treated 
her. She went over the whole matter and could not 
see why she had not done the best she could. She 
did not wish to see him. No, not for worlds would 
she subject herself to his influence again. It made her 
tired to even think of it. It required so much vitality 
to resist his tempers and unreasonableness, she was 
glad she was free and need not see him again. She 
was sure he would never be any better and it would 
make it all the harder to be disappointed again. From 
the standpoint of the psychometrist it is easy for the 
careful student reader to trace the influence of one 
mind on the other and one can plainly see that Marga- 
rets physical languor of the morning was from Mr. 
Gordon^s restless and uncomfortable thoughts during 
the night, and the train of thought through the day 
was a reflection of his mind while on the cars. 

His mind suggested to hers the desire to see him and 
her subsequent reasoning only shadowed his thoughts. 
His decision about himself, added to her former ex- 
perience, led her to carry out her conclusions as she did. 
What was already in her mind from her experience with 
him gave directness to the reflection from his thought, 
and as he had not confidence in himself, so she felt 


Growth of Bington, 


135 


that no matter what happened her confidence in him 
could never be restored. She thought he had been so 
untrue to himself the foundations of- his character 
must be weak and insecure. If she could not trust him 
in his outward conduct she certainly could not in his 
private life, and she wanted none of him. : - 

So for days and weeks she would put him out of her 
thoughts and feel heartily thankful he had discovered 
himself in time. Her spiritual nature triumphed and 
she was free. 

This phase of her thought would again telegraph 
itself to him and lay him mentally prostrate, giving his 
Soul a chance to work itself up and out of the debris of 
self-abasement, and come into a higher light and growth 
till again hope would spring up, seek its complement, 
and her Soul would respond and confidence again revive 
in her heart, and the old desire to see him, hear his 
voice, to touch his hand, would overcome all her fancied 
security and the revival of her love be again an intense 
torture. Yet, after each experience the soul would 
rise victorious another step on its road of progress; 
something would be overcome and the weight of error 
lessened. ‘Tost tenebrae lux.” After darkness light. 
This is why we “suffer and grow strong,” we are denied 
our most intense desires for a time to compel us to 
lift from the soul the weight of selfish and ignorant 
thoughts and give it that much more of freedom to- 
'‘wards the goal of its evolution. Spirit. 

In this way the ball rolled from one to the other but 
the thread never broke and a woof was woven that was 


136 Currents and Undercurrents. 


indestructible because that which held it was a soul 
force which must work itself out ‘^through much 
tribulation/^ 

Happiness must be earned by killing out selfishness 
and the more there is to overcome the longer and 
harder the lesson. This is no new theory, but the 
experience of all humanity since the world began. 

In this case, both being such strong characters, the 
struggle was a hard and bitter one. Sometimes a mood 
of mind would overtake him when he felt savage and 
cruel, because she had thwarted his will — as he then 
saw it — and he would feel like doing almost any 
desperate thing to compel her to reinstate him, when 
his love was so strong with the feeling that she was his 
and he hers, and he determined he would have her at 
any cost; he would do her personal violence; he would 
choke her until she would say she loved him. When 
that mental telegram reached her (as it surely must) 
she hated him, fancied he had put indignities upon 
her and wished she could in some way be revenged upon 
him, and she bitterly resented her inability to separate 
herself from him, and held herself in deepest humilia- 
tion for her weakness. 

Happily these moods did not last long, and the calm 
that followed the mental cyclone was the Soul’s op- 
portunity again. Says Helen Wilmans, ‘‘The educa- 
tional uses of rough experiences are beyond computa- 
tion, evidently the most direct road to Heaven is 
through Hell.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


Tom’s Misery.— He Goes Home to Tell of His Coming Mar- 
riage.— Scenes.— Rena’s Agony and Self -ControL— Tom’s 
Marriage to Corinne. 

Poor Tom was in no enviable frame of mind. His 
maftrriage with Corinne was approaching and as yet 
Rena was entirely ignorant of it. Her letters were free 
and natural, bright and happy; she wrote as she thought 
and Tom was her ideal. To be sure, no word of love 
had passed between them, she never even thought of 
that as being at all necessary. Tom was hers. He 
was as much a part of her life as her own thoughts; 
there was no need to say anything, and everything in 
his conduct to her said he reciprocated her feeling; 
nothing could convince her any more than she was 
now convinced that he loved her. It never entered 
her mind that it could be otherwise. She lived in, and 
for him, each happy hour of the day, and all hours 
were happy, for whatever of discord came up it was as 
nothing to her for she was fortified against everything 
by the sustaining power of a mutual love. Tom felt 
this. His eyes were opened to the situation, hers were 
shut. 

How could he ever bring this blight upon her young 
life? Was there no way of escape for him? Would 
nothing release him from this terrible situation ? Could 

137 


138 Currents and Undercurrents. 

it be possible that the days would keep crawling on 
slowly but surely to the time when she must know? 

At times his agony was frightful. He could not bear 
to have a moment of leisure in which to think; he 
worked at something incessantly, but then a time would 
come when he must try to sleep. Then it was agonizing. 

His life with Cora might be endurable if it were not 
for Eena, but when he remembered how Cora had 
stepped in between him and the woman he loved, he 
detested her, much as he tried to feel otherwise, for 
he knew that her only sin was in loving him and she 
honestly believed he loved her, and no thought of any 
other woman in connection with Tom ever stepped in 
to disturb her mind. He was her God. What a situa- 
tion for a conscientious man like Tom! 

Cora was not as self-centered as Eena, and was frail 
and delicate in health, and Tom knew of the two, Eena 
would bear the disappointment much better. Both her 
character and her strength were greater and her will 
well under control, and he knew she would bear dis- 
appointment bravely. 

But oh, merciful God! how she would despise him! 
And he quailed in spirit when he pictured her scorn 
of the man who had betrayed her love. He tried to 
write coldly and in that way give her a little preparation 
for what was coming, but her warm loving letters, so 
full of life and happiness, entirely took away his power 
to do so. His hand would not write the words, he 
could not even frame them in his mind, and every line 
was full of affection; his soul spoke the love his lips 
must conceal. 


139 


Tom’s Misery. 

What could he do? 

At last the day came when he must inform his family. 
He knew they always had expected he would marry 
Eena, and she had been looked upon as one of the 
family and consulted in all matters of importance the 
same as if she were his wife. 

What would they say? 

The wedding arrangements were all made, only one 
month intervened, and he must go home and tell them. 
He longed to have it over, but dreaded it almost like 
death. 

All the way he wrestled with himself and invoked 
the aid of the higher powers to carry him through the 
ordeal. 

He was expected at home and greeted with all the 
love of their full hearts for him. 

^^Well, well! my son, it is good to see you here,^^ said 
his father, and his strong hand-clasp emphasized his 
words, while Tom^s mother and sisters hung round him 
with tears of joy. Do ^^coming events’^ always cast 
their shadows before? Never had Tom had such a 
greeting. There was something in the air he had not 
felt previously, a joy that was tempestuous and not 
the peaceful love he had always known before. The 
atmosphere was charged, they were intensely glad to see 
him, never more so, but — What ? 

Alas! the mental telegraph had been at work here 
too. Tom’s unrest and agony had reached there before 
him. His mother looked at him anxiously, his sisters 
almost trembled at the something strange about him, 
and after supper when they sat down to have a quiet 


140 Currents and Undercurrents. 

talk, a hush of expectancy came over them, and no one 
cared to speak. At last it came. 

^^Mother, I have some news for you,’^ said Tom, ^^good 
news I hope you will think. I want you and the girls 
to get all your finery ready to come to the city to see 
the greatest event of my life take place.^^ 

^^Oh! what it is?’’ came from the girls and the 
mother’s voice trembled as she asked, ^^What do you 
mean, my son ?” 

"^Well, mother, it is nothing very frightful, I am 
going to be married one month from to-day.” 

^^What! and Eena never told us? That is not like 
her,” said his mother. 

^^No, mother, Kena does not know it.” 

A chorus of voices said, ^‘^Rena not know it! What 
can you mean, Tom ?” 

am going to marry Corinne Langley, the daughter 
of my employer.” No one said a word; they could not 
comprehend it. Tom married, and not to Rena ! Had 
the world come to an end? They certainly felt as if 
it had. 

The sisters covered their faces and wept bitterly; his 
mother rocked herself to and fro, trembling like an 
aspen, and his father rose and walked the floor in great 
excitement. Then Tom told them how beautiful 
Corinne was and how she loved him so much more than 
he deserved, he, a great hulking fellow, and she a 
delicate flower, — told them how utterly unworthy he 
felt of all the kindness the family had heaped upon 
him, even to the giving of their best beloved daughter, 
their only one. 


Tom’s Misery, 


141 

He thrilled them all with his earnestness and carried 
them with him by his glowing description. But a 
sudden thought struck Eose, his youngest sister and 
she gasped, ‘^Eena, Tom! Eena! What will she say? 
We always thought you loved her and would marry her. 
I donT believe she ever thought of any man hut you; 
it will break her heart!” 

^^Oh, no, Eose; Eena cares for me only as a friend. 
We were children together and she loves me as a 
brother. She has always been my little sister, the same 
as you have. She will he glad for my happiness.” 

^^But, Tom,” said his graver sister Sara, ^^you cannot 
mean what you say. I am sure we always thought of 
her as your future wife, and I think the Stanleys have 
always felt as we do about it, and so has everyone 
around here. Why, it was taken as a matter of course 
and no one thought of any other way. Everyone will 
be disappointed. We have no objection to Corinne, but 
we want Eena,” and the girl’s honest eyes filled with 
tears as she thought about it. 

Mr. Merwin with his hands in his pockets and still 
walking up and down said, “^^Well, Tom, I can’t deny 
that I am sadly disappointed, hut it is your affair, and 
we have no right to meddle with it. We shall always 
love Eena just the same, and shall try to like your new 
wife, and you will always he our son, and we know you 
mean to do right, hut I am afraid the Stanleys will not 
feel as we do about it.” 

They talked it over, and Tom with worldly wisdom 
showed them what an advantage it would he to him 
io marry Mr. Langley’s daughter; how it would advance 


142 Currents and Undercurrents. 

his business interests and give him prestige in society, 
until they came to the conclusion that he had become 
contaminated by contact with the world and had done 
as many men had before him. While they grieved over 
it they tried to make the best of it, and went to bed full 
of plans of preparation for the event which they had no 
power to change. 

Tom’s relief was great, but the worst was yet to come, 
and when he wended his way to the Stanley farm the 
next morning he felt as if he had committed all the 
crimes in the calendar and had got to confess to them. 
He had made up his mind that nothing would help 
Kena so much as to think him unworthy her love, and 
he resolved to let her think he was the villian he 
seemed, and although the role was a hard one for poo^ 
honest Tom, he was resolved to play it as best he could. 

His coming was a surprise to the Stanleys for he had 
thought best to have it so, and when he walked into the 
large airy kitchen and found Eena in her brown ging- 
ham apron washing dishes, Mrs. Stanley working over 
the golden balls of butter, and Margaret moulding the 
loaves of snowy bread, there was great surprise and 
consternation. 

Eena was the last to see him and he had slipped in 
behind her, taken her face between his hands and 
pressed a resounding kiss upon her lips before she 
knew he was there. 

His ‘^Well, how’s ~my little sister this morning,” was 
as easy as though he had always met her that way. 

Both Margaret and Mrs. Stanley were affectionately 
greeted, and Tom rather boisterously told them he had 


Tom’s Misery. 143 

come to bring some news, wonderfully good news that 
would be sure to please them. Then he tantalized them, 
a proceeding unlike the thoughtful Tom they had 
known. 

He said he had organized an expedition to explore 
Africa and had come to pay them his last visit before 
sailing, but his smiling face belied his words and they 
scouted the idea. Then he told them a long story 
about a friend who was an aeronaut and had persuaded 
him to go up in a balloon, and as he had always wanted 
^To see the world” he might as well make one job of it 
and see it from a high point of view. But they would 
not believe that, and then he said he was going to turn 
diver and search for pearls in the bottom of the sea and 
he coaxed Eena to go, too, to protect him from the devil 
fish whose clutch he feared. And at last after much 
bantering he said he was coming down to business now, 
and he placed them in a row, Mrs. Stanley in the middle 
and after great laughter and fun and much painstaking 
on his part to get the row straight and the right kind 
of a smile on their faces, such as a photographer would 
desire, he said, GOING— TO— BE— MAEEIED 

ONE— MONTH— FEOM— TO-DAY. AND—I— 
WANT— YOU— ALL— TO —COME— TO— THE— 
WEDDING!” Then he held out his arms to catch 
them “if they fainted,” but never daring to glance at 
Eena. 

He entered into the particulars only enough to tell 
them when to come to the wedding, and said the girls 
were coming to tell the rest for he had only time to 
catch his train and must be off, but even then they did 


144 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


not realize the truth, and waited for something more 
until he had actually gone. Then they stood where he 
had left them gazing into each other’s faces, aghast ! 

With a sigh of relief, but in the deepest humiliation 
and grief, he strode home, picturing to himself what 
they would say and feel when they knew it was really 
true. His knees trembled and his heart stood still as 
he thought of it. There was great excitement at the 
Stanley farm after he had gone and had not denied his 
strange story. Could he have meant it ? Was it true? 

After they had come to the conclusion that it must be 
true, they could not rise out of his mental suggestion 
that it must all be a joke. In his desire to escape before 
they realized it, he had (unconsciously) thoroughly 
magnetized them, and it was hard to wake out of it, and 
it was only after much talk among themselves and dis- 
cussion with Mr. Stanley and Andrew that they could 
accept it; then the knowledge had come to them so 
slowly, they had been spared a shock. Hot till after 
the girls had been over to explain, however, did they 
realize the truth. Then Tom had ceased to be their old 
friend, and was a contaminated man of the world, and 
led astray by Corrine’s beauty and position. Bitterly 
did they deplore it, but Eena made no sign, and Tom’s 
sisters went home happy, for if Eena did not care, why 
should they, as long as it was so much better for Tom ? 
Mr. Langley was going to take him into the business 
on the day of his marriage. The bustle of preparation 
kept them busy, but they were not happy over it. 
Something undefinable made them feel very uneasy 
about Tom, and it was a sad blow to all their plans. 


Tom’s Misery. 145 

They loved Eena and could not adjust their minds to 
Corinne. 

All night Eena lay with wide-open eyes trying to 
think — to realize it. Could that he Tom, her Tom that 
she had loved all her life; he who had been to her the 
very soul of honor, next to God to her ? Could he have 
broken his faith with her ? Looking back she knew he 
had loved her and she recalled many things he had said 
that assured her he had meant to make her his wife. 
And now he was going to sell himself ! Marry for mere 
money and position ! Nothing had been said about his 
love for the beautiful girl who was going to give herself 
to him. Could God allow the heart of an apparently 
good man to be so base? 

Eena was at first too indignant to be hurt. The 
revulsion of feeling was so complete and sudden. She 
seemed filled with a sort of grim curiosity to search 
out the meaning of it. She had not yet come to realize 
the bearing of it upon her life. 

At last it came and overwhelmed and engulfed her in 
the depths of despair. Her forsaken and blighted life, 
her youth and the long weary years before her with half 
of herself stricken out, given to a new acquaintance 
only because she was rich and beautiful and loved him. 
And she must be left all these long sad years without 
even a letter, denied even the stimulus of his thought ! 
She had nothing left to live for. 

But all this was as nothing compared to the feeling 
that he was unworthy, — that she had been deceived in 
him; and now her suspicions being aroused, she could 
see; she thought, a systematic plan to deceive her. She 


146 Currents and Undercurrents. 


had read of such things, hut how could it come to her 
who had always loved him since she could remember, 
and she longed to weep, to get some relief, but tears 
were denied her. Her eyes were as dry as her heart 
was shriveled and burned. Was there a God that could 
let such things be? 

And he had dared to kiss her when he came on such 
an errand ! She sprang out of bed in a fiyy and walked 
the floor wildly until she could walk no more. When 
the morning light came, she threw herself on the bed 
in a state of exhaustion and slept. 

At the usual hour she arose, dressed, and went about 
her duties as calmly as if nothing had happened, holding 
herself in perfect self-possession and quietness through 
the day. She shrank from nothing. It was necessary 
to decide whether they would go to the wedding. Mrs. 
Stanley would not think of it, but Eena announced at 
once that she would go. To herself she said no one 
should know that her life had been blighted; her home 
should not be made unhappy by her repining; she would 
keep it all to herself as much as possible and live as well 
as she could. 

But the tortures she suffered were indescribable. The 
nights were long drawn agonies because she relaxed the 
tension of her mind held through the days, which was 
one supreme effort to rise above herself and hide her 
sorrow. It was terrible, but Tom at least, and all the 
others should see that she could go to his wedding as 
unconcerned as he came to impart the news to her. 

She carefully planned her costume that he should see 
her at her best, and that there should be no sharp con- 


147 


Tom’s Misery. 

trasts between her and his beautiful bride. Oh! how 
she ground her teeth at the thought, but she would do 
it, and it should not kill her either. 

It was one of the Indian summer days in October 
when the trees were gay with their autumn dress and 
the air was soft and mellow as only autumn days can 
be, that they arrived at the house of Mr. Langley and 
were assigned a room in which to make their toilet. 

Nature had done her best in the way of decorations. 
The extensive grounds were filled with shrubbery and 
many trees, all arrayed in their most brilliant autumn 
dress and gorgeous to behold. The grounds were 
formerly a forest and some of the noblest trees had been 
saved. The maples were in a blaze of glory. The oaks 
clothed in their loveliest browns and the occasional 
clusters of sumachs were all afiame, while the pines 
added their intense green. A purling stream that ran 
through the grounds sang merrily as it rippled over the 
moss-grown stones and floated its tiny craft of fallen 
leaves toward the broad river in which they would soon 
be lost. 

Inside the house were flowers everywhere. Great 
banks of fern and tall palms were arranged most effec- 
tively and everything money and a cultured taste could 
supply, was done, for at the marriage of their only 
daughter to the man they respected and loved, no ex- 
pense must be spared. 

Eena had never before seen such elegance. Her short 
life had been spent in the country where God’s 
magnificence prevailed. She felt small and strange, 
and she trembled, and it was only by the strongest 


148 Currents and Undercurrents. 

effort of her will that she could keep her teeth from 
chattering. But she succeeded so well that Margaret 
who loved her and watched her so closely did not detect 
her misery and trepidation. For was not Tom, her 
Tom, going to live among all those things? He was 
perfectly at home there, and what was strange and 
embarrassing to her was all a part of his daily life. 

: No wonder he felt at liberty to kiss a little country 
girl whom he found in the kitchen washing dishes. No 
wonder he preferred the beautiful home and the girl 
that went with it and had been brought up in it. Mr. 
and Mrs. Langley would not hear of their living any- 
where else. It was easily explained, if he was the 
worldly man he now seemed to be. What was she but 
a verdant country girl with nothing to give him but 
herself ! 

With a heavy heart she acknowledged she could not 
blame him, but alas! Where was her hero, her brave 
Tom, who had proven too great a coward to face the 
world alone or to earn his own luxuries ; who could settle 
down in a home bought by the efforts of another man, 
sell himself (for she knew he did not love (Corinne) 
rather than earn his own luxuries or live without them 
by the side of the woman he loved. Oh, what a 
humiliation, to know she had been so mistaken in him 1 
She was glad she had found it out in time, but ah ! the 
misery of it ! The dead feeling about her heart ! Would 
it always be so? 

She was dressed now, and it was almost time for the 
nuptials. She must brace herself to meet the ordeal of 
seeing given to another the man she knew belonged to 
her. 


Tom’s Misery. 


149 


Let us look at her now as she stands before the mirror 
putting the finishing touches to her costume. She is 
somewhat changed since she was first introduced to us. 

Her brown hair continues to curl and is still an un- 
manageable mass of rings and waves that rebel as ever 
at any ordinary mode of arrangement, and can only be 
tied in a loose knot and allowed to wander at its own 
sweet will, a most becoming arrangement that sets off 
the brown eyes, aquiline nose, fair complexion, and 
general high-bred look. 

She was not beautiful as a dream, as novelists put it, 
but she had a face full of character, loving and tender, 
and a perfect and rather petite form that was firmly 
knit and strong as the nature it represented. She 
was a personality that would attract attention any- 
where. She was infinitely more than a pretty girl. But 
it was when she spoke that she was most charming, for 
the changing expressions rippled over her face like the 
merry sparkles of the brook, or the sunny waves of her 
own hair, and she was all life and brilliancy. 

How in a frock of blue silk and white India mull 
that Margaret^s exquisite taste had selected, and the 
lovely pearls that Andrew had given her for the oc- 
casion, she was very beautiful, and the brother and 
sister were more than satisfied. 

Though no word had been said to her and she had 
preserved a strict silence as to her feelings, the family 
felt Tom’s behavior to her bitterly, and they were exult- 
ant that she bore it so well and made no sign. They 
well knew it was not because she was devoid of feeling 
and they spared no trouble or expense to put her at 


150 Currents and Undercurrents. 

her ease as much as possible for the occasion that was 
to mar her life and cost her a terrible struggle. 

They knew her and felt sure of her, and as they met 
Andrew at the foot of the stairs and were ushered into 
the large drawing room, he was highly gratified with 
his two beautiful sisters. The effort Rena was making 
to control herself suffused her cheeks with a pink tint, 
brightened her eyes, and gave her an erect bearing, 
and every eye was turned towards her in admiration. 

It happened that they were placed near the great 
floral bell under which the pair were to stand, and when 
the charming bride in her costly white satin and old 
lace with her beautiful diamonds, Tom’s gift, made her 
appearance, both Margaret and Andrew involuntarily 
drew near to Rena, but not a muscle in her face 
changed, and when her eye met Tom’s and the color 
faded out of his face, she returned his glance with 
perfect composure, for she was frozen to stone and did 
not know where she was, only realizing that the man 
she loved so fondly was being irrevocably given to an- 
other. She went through the congratulations with the 
same calm indifference, and only when she was safe 
home again away from all eyes did she let herself down 
to her misery. Let us leave her now to the guidance of 
her own soul that will evolve out of her struggle a 
higher growth and compensation. 

Pretty Corinne, the wilful, spoiled child, was en- 
chantingly happy. Tom was all hers now and oh, how 
she loved him! 

And he? He was resigned. Truth to tell, he was 
bitterly disappointed at the cool way Rena took his 


Tom’s Misery. 


151 

marriage. He had tormented himself night and day 
for her sake. He did not wish to see her unhappy, hut 
he thought she would show some feeling. He had 
believed she loved him, but was he mistaken? She 
could never have seemed so unconscious if she did love 
him. He felt his own face blanch when his eyes met 
hers, and strong man as he was, it had seemed as though 
he must fall. But she had just the same pleasant light 
in her eyes she always wore. No spasm of pain crossed 
her face, only a look of perfect unconcern rested there. 
He was cut to the quick; he forgot everything but that 
she did not care. After all these years that she should 
not care! And he started on his wedding trip with a 
heavier heart than he had before. 

Tom was like all the rest of the male kind ; no matter 
what they do they always expect the woman they love to 
be constant to them as well as immensely grieved if they 
are separated from them. He fully expected that Rena 
would absent herself from his wedding. 

How could she see him given to another woman ? He 
had thought of her as weeping bitter tears alone in her 
room at that hour, and promised himself he would think 
of her, send his whole heart to her where it belonged, 
and render her that justice, though he had to give his 
outward self to another. 

But she had presented herself smiling and calm as a 
June morning, and as rapturously lovely too, with no 
more care for what was going on right under her eyes, 
than if it were the most commonplace affair in the 
world. She did not seem impressed with its magnif- 
icence even, and he had thought she would form a kind 


1^1 Currents and Undercurrents. 

of excuse for him as long as she thought love of display 
was one of his motives, poor consolation though it was. 
He was thoroughly disappointed all around, so he tried 
to dismiss the subject from his mind by devoting him- 
self to his wife. He would at least make her happy so 
that some one might profit by this sad business if she 
were (unwittingly) the cause, and as he looked at the 
beautiful girl nestling close to him, he gathered her 
in his arms and vowed to himself he would put the old 
love away and learn to make the new wife all in all to 
him. 


CHAPTER XIY. 


Andrew— Mr. Burns and Family— Growth of Bington.— 
Mental Telepathy.— Rena’s Victory. 

Andrew had not entered upon his business venture 
alone. He had no knowledge of mechanical business 
and not enough capital to carry it on by himself. His 
published book upon the ‘^Science of Agriculture” had 
met with favor with men interested in the subject; and 
among them was a man well known in those circles, who 
had the subject so much at heart he had taken pains to 
visit Andrew. Finding him all that could be desired, 
and the location and general facilities favorable, he had 
proposed manufacturing some of the implements which 
as Agricultural Scientists they thought were necessary 
for the furtherance of their plans. 

This gentleman resolved to move to Bington with his 
family, and add his business experience to the capital 
Andrew would furnish and so try to advance the cause 
of scientific farming. It was through this means the 
town had started into a new growth and activity. 

Mr. Burns was a man of some sixty years with an ex- 
tended business experience. A genial, good natured 
man of great originality, and cheerfulness, with a keen 
and searching mind, a fund of stories always at hand 
and a marvelous adaptiveness in telling them; he gen- 

153 


154 Currents and Undercurrents. 

erally left everyone he met in a broad langh, and was 
everywhere gladly welcomed both by young and old. 

His wife had died some years before, and left him 
with two sons and a daughter; the younger boy and girl 
being twins now eighteen years old. The older son 
who was twenty-two, entered with zest into the new 
business project. 

Mr. Stanley owned quite a large tract of land, and a 
site was bought for a house, which eventually was 
finished, and the Burns family settled there. That 
portion of Mr. Stanley’s farm adjoining the factory was 
soon cut up into streets and building lots, and as the 
great factory loomed up, houses sprang into view also 
and the whole place was transformed. 

But the seclusion of the farmhouse had been pre- 
served and the Burns residence was also set back on the 
slope of the hill and near the farm. 

The village ran towards the north, and the two 
houses faced east and the river. Back towards the 
southeast towered the mountain covered with a dense 
forest, at the base of which nestled the cozy and 
comfortable farm house. 

The relations between the two families were very 
pleasant, and the Stanleys exerted themselves to make 
the strangers acquainted in the town, and their time 
pass pleasantly. 

The Burns family were very musical and the Stanleys 
intellectually inclined, but each was interested in the 
favorite pursuit of the other, and the variety was very 
agreeable. 

The new impetus in the growth of the place had 


Andrew and Consequences. 155 

drawn out the people who before were hut dull, plodding 
farmers, into something quite different; and “sociables/^ 
fairs, picnics and musicals and all entertainments 
common in such places were quite frequent; indeed, 
the reaction had set in so strongly in that direction 
they were quite dissipated, in their mild way, and they 
were astonished to find so much talent among them of 
one* sort and another that had been buried in ob- 
scurity so long. 

But the good people were not awake to the fact that 
all this growth and progress started from a rolling 
stone under a horse’s foot. But - remember, ^^Great 
trees from little acorns grow.” 

The formerly quiet and staid town was now greeted 
in the morning and at noon with the deep-toned factory 
whistle, and the streets were busy with the tramping 
feet of the hurrying workman. The stores were lively, 
the barber shops and saloons were well patronized; 
even bootblacks were seen on the street, and a peanut 
vender was contentedly turning his roaster with an 
eye to future riches. The town grew almost as rapidly 
as some of our phenomenal western towns. Other pro- 
jects were afoot to utilize the water power, and only 
the ^^everlasting hills” were undisturbed. 

Eena and Bounce had taken to their former habits 
of rambling again. She was well and apparently 
happy, but restless as the ocean, and as with all the 
other changes a maid-of-all-work had been added to 
the farmhouse, she was at liberty to rove at will. 

Andrew thought his mother had done work enough 
to have earned her rest, and the girls now found so 


156 Currents and Undercurrents. 

mucli to occupy them outside the home, that a buxom 
house-maid had been found, leaving them an oppor- 
tunity to seek more congenial employments. 

Mr. Stanley had reared and trained a colt for the 
girls to ride, and many pleasant afternoons saw Marga- 
ret and her mother in the phaeton, and Eena mounted 
on Prince with Bounce running merrily after, all at 
the height of enjoyment. If there had been no under- 
current of heartaches there would have been perfect 
happiness. But that most potent spectre always ap- 
pears to prevent such consummation, — that awful 
undercurrent of heartache. 

Eena had also taken to her mountain excursions 
again, and she walked miles and miles with the faith- 
ful dog ever by her side; not rompingly now as of old, 
but sometimes slowly and gravely, and again with 
feverish haste, spurred on by a tormenting unrest that 
nothing but action could allay. 

Anyone who could have looked in upon Tom at that 
time, might have found him nervous and irritated 
generally at some petty and unreasonable conceit of 
Corinne^s that had exasperated him to the last degree, 
something which he assented to as graciously as he 
could, but which stayed with him all day, pricking 
him as though he were wearing a chestnut burr next 
to his skin. 

In those days he was always turning over and over 
in his mind how different it would have been with 
Eena, and what she would have done under the circum- 
stances, and how she would think he ought to act, 
picturing her in Corinne’s place. Then would come 


Andrew and Consequences. 157 

the agony to both through mental telegraphy. Some- 
times he had a sort of inkling of her feeling; of the 
pride that made her go to his wedding and appear so 
unconcerned, and his heart ached for her, and his 
admiration for her self-control was unbounded. As for 
himself, he loved her more fondly than ever, and 
dreaded to go home to Corinne who was capricious and 
petulant and at times very exacting. 

She was never well for she constantly fretted her- 
self into illness. She possessed one of those tempera- 
ments that if she were unhappy or sick, expected every 
one else to he uncomfortable, and it was not her fault 
if every one was not. She tyrannized over Tom, who, 
considering all things, did his best to please her and it 
was generally a difficult task. 

But wherever he was or whatever he was doing, 
the undercurrent of his thought was always Eena. 
Try as he would he could not get away from it, and 
so her thought was ever attracted to him. 

Mr. Burns’ eldest son Eohert, was a true son of his 
namesake. Of a musical and poetical temperament, 
with a mother-wit that came in at all times and places, 
he was a great favorite everywhere, and his daily task 
of keeping the books at the factory so taxed his powers 
of endurance that he was running over with fun and 
hilarity always when not at the interminable figures, 
the ‘^everlasting grind” as he termed it. He was the 
life of the circle in which he moved and everywhere 
sought for in all the merry-makings. The younger 
brother and sister were lively and entertaining and 
great friends of the Stanleys, and Eena and Kitty spent 


158 Currents and Undercurrents. 

many pleasant hours together, and life now flowed 
smoothly with them all. 

Renans self-control had been wonderful. She spoke 
of Tom in the most matter-of-fact way, quite cheating 
herself even, sometimes, into thinking she did not care 
about his marriage at all. It had changed the whole 
current of her mind, hut while she recognized the 
change, she did not attribute it to the true c:.use. She 
thought she was growing older, getting experience (as 
she was); indeed, sometimes she felt very old, and the 
cares of the nation seemed to rest on her shoulders; 
but that was when Tom was unusually oppressed with 
care, only she did not know it. 

So do our lives blend in the unseen, and very few, 
if any of us, live to ourselves. Some few are such 
absorbents that they literally ‘T^eep what they have, 
and get what they can” from everyone. Vampires! 
sucking the life blood of any defenseless mortal within 
their range. But most of us give while we receive, 
otherwise, humanity would be thoroughly unbalanced. 


CHAPTER XV. 


Gordon Goes to Bington.— Meets Uncle Eben.— Sees Mar- 
garet with Another Man.— Insane Jealousy.— Goes Home 
and Starts for Africa.— Uriel Brice.— His Mother. 

“Hello, Gordon! Where are yon off to now?^^ said 
one of the friends of that gentleman as he was stepping 
into a carriage at his own door from which had just 
driven away a baggage van heavily loaded, and upon 
which was his own man evidently prepared for a long 
journey. 

“Oh, I’ve taken a fancy to explore Egypt and Syria 
this time. New York has become too small for me. 
Good-bye, my boy.” And hastening to the carriage he 
was driven rapidly away. 

“I wonder what has got into Gordon lately, he has 
hardly seemed himself. Some woman, I suppose; that’s 
the way it is with all of us. Too bad! he’s a good 
fellow, true as steel. I wonder what woman could have 
power over him to make him start off like this. Fate, 
I suppose. Well, God speed you friend and take you 
into smooth waters again.” 

An hour later saw Gordon on the great steamer 
moving out of the harbor, while his stern, set face as he 
watched the receding city, showed to a close observer 
that no light motive had influenced his departure. 

Could we have read his thoughts we should have 

159 


i6o 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


heard him saying, ‘^Oh, Margaret, Margaret, light of 
my life! The hook has closed; onr paths must diverge 
from now on. Henceforth life is only a burden to me, 
a blank.” Then he ground his teeth and said under his 
breath, ^^Damn him! IM like to wring his neck. It 
was had enough before, hut now it is utterly hopeless. 
He’s a scoundrel, too, I know by his looks. If he 
hurts her!” and his fingers closed into his palms with 
such force as to leave marks on his sensitive flesh. 
^^Here am I, driven to the ends of the world, I, who 
love her, love her better than life or death even, for 
that blatant scoundrel with his smooth, sanctimonious 
face. But after all it is my own fault. My accursed, 
disagreeable temper did it all. I had the chance, and 
she might have loved me if I had not been so over- 
hearing and selfish. I tried to bring her proud, sensi- 
tive spirit under my control, — to my idea of what a 
woman should be to a man , — and forgot she might want 
to he something to herself. I was so hungry for 
her love, for her entire submission to me, because I 
loved her; and in my fierce desire for her I made a 
brute of myself. Great God! what an idiot! what a 
selfish beast! But I was loyal to her though, only I 
expected her, with her fine intuition, to understand 
that, and would not tell her so. I did not think how 
my acts were giving the lie to my thoughts. I wanted 
to test her intuition, to have her find it out herself, 
and did not see I was crushing the growth I sought to 
accelerate. 

^^But now, now! I give it up since that damned 
scoundrel appeared on the scene.” And so he raved 


Uriel Brice, i6i 

until dinner was announced and he had to come out 
of himself and mix with his fellow passengers. 

Let us retrace our steps to about a month previous 
to Mr. Gordon^s departure for Europe. 

We shall find him in his own room late at night in 
one of his ^Villainous” bilious attacks, just sick enough 
to long with all his soul for Margaret. He thought 
of how quietly she would step around his room, of the 
touch of her soft hand upon his aching head, of all her 
thoughtful, gentle ways and her strong sustaining 
nature. He let his imagination drift over what a life 
with her would he. How entrancing to have her meet 
him at the door when he came in, of all her seductive 
ways that would make his heart hound with joy and 
gladness. Of her, in her regal beauty sitting at the 
head of his table, of — oE, everything! — and the con- 
trast as he came hack to himself, and saw himself alone 
in his own apartments with the racking pain and the 
everlasting sense of loss, too miserable even to call his 
man, was maddening. He walked the fioor like a caged 
lion, until at last he lay down and fell into a heavy 
sleep that lasted late into the morning. 

When he awoke it was with a sense of having had a 
fall, of being sore and bruised all over (caused by the 
fall of himself in his own estimation, and the soreness 
of his anger) and he could not recall where he had 
been or what had happened, and it was only after his 
man had been in and brought his cup of coffee and 
toast, that he could remember at all what was the 
matter with him. 


i 62 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


But then he thought it all over and came to the 
conclusion he could not stand things as they were and 
he would go and see Margaret. This time nothing 
should turn him from his purpose; he would lay him- 
self at her feet, frankly and honestly plead for her 
love, and await her verdict, and it should, it must be 
favorable. He would not take a negative answer, he 
knew he could make her happy, she belonged to him, 
was his, and he would have her. 

Again he took the train for Bington, and this time 
he so nursed his stern resolve, that in due time he 
arrived at the station of the town and proceeded to 
make inquiries of a garrulous, old man sunning him- 
self on a baggage truck. ^^The Stanleys? Oh, yes, 
I knows the Stanleys; known ’em ever since they fust 
marrid each other. In fact, I played the fiddle at ther 
weddin’, an a fine weddin’ it wuz, too. All the fust 
folks in the place wuz there, — the Deacon Barbers’es, 
Uncle Jabez King’s folks. Squire Williams’es hull 
fam’ly. Dr. Collins’es folks, an’ all the gentry the coun- 
try round. Great times them wuz, Jedge, great times. 

“But ther childun mostly died, only three left out’n 
the hull eight. But they’s fine, Jedge, fine childun 
them is. Why there’s Andrew, he’s bin the making 
’uv the hull town, Andrew has. He writ a book on 
farmin’, ’twas a stunner, Jedge, a regler stunner, and 
thet brung a man here that knew suthin’ about it’n 
they’v built the factory’n a lot ’o housen an’ the stores, 
an’ they’ve jest bin the makin’ uv the hull town. 

“Then there’s little Eeny, the puttiest gal ye ever 
see. But then ther’s Margit! I tell ye, she’s a stun- 


Uriel Brice. 


163 


ner! Margit is. Some on ^em call her Madge but I 
don’t think it’s good ’nuf fur her. She’s thet kind of a 
gal thet makes ye think of a Queen Victory, she’s so 
dignifi’d like. But I’ll tell ye, Jedge (confidentially), 
I don’t like her goin’ round with thet book-keeping 
feller ’et the mill. They sez he wants ter mary her ’nd 
she’s sweet on him, as the hoys say, hut I don’t b’leve 
it. I don’t like him eny how ’nd if he marries my 
queen Margit, I’ll kick! I think he’s a sneakin devil, 
though he seems powerful good; goes ter the meetin 
housen ’nd ’s in fur all the plans ter hen’fit mankind, 
’es he calls it, hut in my ’pinon he’s ther man he wants 
ter hen’fit, fur he’s a crafty chap ’n I’m ’fraid mischif 
’ll cum uv it to Margit thru him. There they go, sure 
nuff! — See the loot, a peaking in her face an’ talkin 
pretty talk, dang him! Yer see he looks putty nufi 
’n women’s easy took with good looking fellers.” And 
as they drove hy Margaret laughed and turned toward 
her companion, leaning slightly his way and looking 
so rosy and happy that Gordon felt ready to faint with 
anger and jealousy, and the old man shook his first at 
the handsome couple and said he ^^much fear’d he’d git 
’er yit, hut ’f ’e duz hy jingo I’ll — and he turned to 
find himself alone, and talking to thin air, for Gordon 
was striding down the street like a wild man. 

He ! the elegant, refined, polished Mr. Gordon, 
traveler, millionaire, the admired of drawing-rooms, 
the envied man in Clubs, was wildly, insanely jealous; 
and if he had had a pistol and opportunity would have 
committed murder as easy as he would have taken off 
his hat, and with as little thought of the consequences. 


t 64 Currents and Undercurrents. 

What an idiot he was, he thought, to come all this 
distance after a woman who had forgotten him long 
ago, and was taking up with a blackleg of a book- 
keeper when he could give the heart of a man that 
would think of her always and never again give her 
cause for offense! 

Then he railed at himself for driving her away from 
him, for he thought she had loved him. Finally he 
came to a realization of himself and found he was in 
the outskirts of the town with no house in sight, and 
in a state of perfect exhaustion. 

He lay down under a tree on the soft, cool grass 
and went to work to think it all out. What should he 
do ? Love said, seek Margaret and lay before her your 
honest heart. Pride said, wait. But he decided to try 
if he could not win her back to him; he felt she was 
more than worth the effort, and that it was due to him- 
self, and perhaps to her, that he should do all he 
could. At all events he would do nothing rash, but 
would take time to come to a final conclusion in the 
matter. 

And he did. He stayed in the town under another 
name three days; he walked and drove all over the 
place, hoping to meet her and to see if she would 
recognize him, but in vain. He drew out one and an- 
other, as a man can, to talk of the Stanleys until he 
thought he was thoroughly informed, and he came to 
the conclusion that what everyone thought was true, 
must be; and Margaret was really engaged to another 
man. He was over his fit of violence now and in a 


Uriel Brice. 


165 

much better mood. He saw there was nothing for him 
to do under the circumstances but give her up and 
leave the country and strive as best he could to forget 
his love, and blot out the object of it from his memory. 
And yet, he did not wish to do that ; the pleasant hours 
he had passed with her were a part of him that he 
could not spare; they stood out in his life above all 
others. 

He had had experiences before. He had thought he 
loved more than once, but nothing was like this, noth- 
ing could take the place of it. Yet he must, and 
would, learn to do without it. He made up his mind 
sadly to leave his native land again and plunge into 
the wilds of Africa, seeking adventure and danger, for 
why should he care to live ? Life had lost its color for 
him; henceforth he might as well be devoured by lions 
and tigers, as to live and be slowly devoured by his own 
thoughts. 

His faithful valet was eager to take up again the 
life of travel he had enjoyed so much before, but he 
suspected strongly that his master went in a very 
different spirit this time, though he knew not why; 
but he looked for more reckless wanderings and new 
dangers, and the prospect pleased him much. 

Alas, for the impetuosity of man! If Gordon had 
listened to his heart and his desire, and set aside his 
jealousy and pride, he might now have been one of 
the happiest of men, instead of sailing away out of his 
world, sad and broken-hearted. 

So it is we teach ourselves the lessons necessary for 


i66 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


us to learn, and charge to an imaginary God the mis- 
haps that are the direct effect of our own mismanage- 
ment. 

And Margaret, poor Margaret! Just for one forced 
smile, and one desperate attempt to hide her real sorrow 
and grief, she is doomed to bury herself to live a lonely, 
unsatisfied life that no one could ever understand, and 
pass through trials that equaled in her spiritual nature 
all the physical dangers to be encountered among the 
wildest and fiercest beasts of the desert. 

Uriel Brice was a small stock owner in the factory 
and the confidential book-keeper. He was born in an 
adjoining town, and was the youngest of ten children. 
His mother was a hard-working, fairly honest woman, 
who did the best she could for her children, but as the 
father was a shiftless, unprincipled sot, life had not 
been so easy for her that she could afford to live upon 
honor. To bear and rear ten children in any fashion 
at all with a brute of a husband that increased her 
cares and abused her and her children, does not, in any 
mother, conduce to great moral integrity. 

If this woman sent her ^fi)rats^^ out to forage among 
her neighbors, and get what they could to fill their 
always-empty stomachs, and in any way they could, it 
was because she did not wish them to starve, and not 
because she had any grudge against her neighbors. 
What wonder the children learned to look out for 
themselves either by fair means or foul. 

Uriel, being the youngest, fared better than the 
rest. His father had been killed in a drunken brawl 


Uriel Brice. 


167 . 

when he was aT small child. The brothers and sisters 
had grown up and wandered away, some married, others 
died, and when he was twelve years old, Uriel and his 
mother lived alone in what to them was comfort. She 
took in washing and he went to school and did odd 
jobs for a few pennies. 

He managed to pick up a fair education, and when 
a few years later, his mother died, he drifted to the 
city, and, beginning as office boy, he finally learned 
book-keeping, and as he knew so well how to live on 
little, he saved his money and improved himself in 
every way he could. He had an ambition, horn proba- 
bly, in the mind of his mother who had this one strong 
desire, to have this boy, her youngest, make something 
of himself, that is, to get rich ; this was the goal of her 
ambition, as it is of many another. 

This idea was early implanted in his mind and kept 
pace with his growth. It was this that led him to 
study the world and to play upon the weaknesses of 
mankind, also to use any and every means to further 
his ends, right or wrong, so long as he was not found 
out ; for to his mind, therein lay the sin. He had culti- 
vated a serene, smooth and rather deferential manner; 
was exceedingly obliging, and ever ready to lend a help- 
ing hand. He was an active Church member, and 
worked in the ^‘Young Men^s Christian Association,” 
and though quite an irreproachable character, as far as 
the world knew, he was really crafty, cruel and un- 
scrupulous. 

In connection with the Church work he had met 


i68 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


Margaret and formed in his own mind a plan to marry 
her, and thus gain a foothold in the firm. And in his 
day-dreams he saw himself eventually at the head, with 
the other two managers crowded out, — a plan he had 
concocted in his own mind and which he was vigilantly 
nursing. 

Margaret’s immersion in her own sorrowful thoughts 
helped to further his plans. She was just doing some- 
thing to keep from brooding over her trouble. One 
man was the same to her as another, and the crafty 
Brice had so managed that on her visits to the poor 
she should be called to the outlying districts, and, it 
being too far for her to walk, he as often as possible 
constituted himself her driver. 

To Margaret he was only Brice the book-keeper, 
whom she wished to treat kindly and politely, and noth- 
ing more. He had managed by dropping a word here 
and an insinuation there, to have it talked about that 
they were engaged, Margaret being entirely uncon- 
scious of the most remote thought in that direction. 
This day she had walked out to see a friend, and Brice 
learning of the fact, had driven out and rode past 
the house just as she came out. In fact, he had waited 
in sight of the house until he saw her come out and had 
driven on quite unconsciously as it seemed, and having 
overtaken her seemed much surprised, and of course, 
invited her to ride. As she was feeling much depressed, 
both mentally and physically, she accepted the invita- 
tion. 

A casual remark had called out the laugh as they 


Uriel Brice. 


169 


passed the railroad station, nothing more. And for 
this the man she loved had gone to Syria in ntter 
wretchedness and dejection, and left her wearing out 
her heart for love of him and a consuming desire to 
see him! And this is life, and we are all playing at 
cross purposes in the same way, for lack of wisdom, 
and to gain the one desideratum; experience. 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


170 


CHAPTEE XYI. 

Herbert Langley.— Kecovered.— Brice in Pursuit of Mar- 
garet. 

If the happenings of real life took as long as the 
telling of the story seems to make it to the impatient 
reader, it would seem long indeed to poor Herbert 
Langley lying on a sick bed in Warrington Hospital 
dangerously wounded, and quite unconscious; but 
fortunately he has been getting well all this time. 
The fever ran wildly a week and then gradually abated, 
but it was two weeks before the light of reason came 
to him, and four, before he could be removed to his 
home where we find him just previous to his sister’s 
wedding, able to sit up, but still very much of an 
invalid. 

The preparation for the wedding interested him, and 
he was more than glad to have Tom for a brother-in- 
law, but instinctively he felt that all was not right 
with him. He knew him so well, his face was like an 
open book to him, and yet nothing in his manner indi- 
cated where the trouble lay. His patience with 
Corinne’s petulance made him feel that Tom must 
love her, and outwardly he could see no cause for his 
own feeling, but it troubled him nevertheless. 


Brice in Pursuit of Margaret. 171 

He was very happy to see the Stanleys at the 
wedding, and after the ceremonies were over, he carried 
them off to his own room to have a quiet talk. 

He was much impressed with the change that had 
come to them all since he was their guest, and play- 
fully rallied Eena upon her young-lady-hood, for she 
was only a girl when he was there, and he could hardly 
realize the change, and he inwardly set her down as a 
most beautiful and fascinating young woman. For by 
one of those contradictions that make men call women 
fickle, and not at all to he understood, she was in an 
unusually gay mood. Her effort to conceal her real 
feeling sent her spirits to the opposite point, and she 
was not only cheerful, but gay. Only Margaret under- 
stood her, and her heart ached for her when she should 
throw off her self-restraint. 

They were obliged to wait for a late train, and Her- 
bert had them all to himself, for every one else in the 
house was busy. Mr. and Mrs., Langley spent what 
time they could with them, and were profuse in their 
thanks for their kindness to Herbert. They were es- 
pecially pleased with Eena, and the next morning Mr. 
Langley slyly hinted to Herbert that he should by no 
means object to that young lady for a daughter. Her- 
bert accepted the suggestion seriously and made up his 
mind that when he was well he would do all he could 
to win Eena for his wife. But when Tom returned 
and he was plunging into business again, his mind was 
so fully occupied he lost sight of his idea for a time, 
and things went on as usual, his ^^Guardian Angel” 


172 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


probably knowing that Eena was making a brave fight 
for freedom, and it would be useless to approach her 
then. 

Indeed, she was brave. The undercurrent of her life 
was a constant struggle for self-restraint, and her often 
wakeful nights an interminable prayer for strength to 
endure. 

As in all right effort, she succeeded. After awhile 
the struggle was not so hard, and she could forget Tom, 
or think of him as the husband of another. Her cour- 
age was rewarded and she grew calm and measureably 
resigned to the inevitable. She did not fade or mope, 
or lose her health. She was strong in herself and too 
proud to show her disappointment to the world. She 
knew that her acquaintances expected her to pine away 
and she did not propose to gratify them, and, sturdy 
little soul that she was, she did not. 

There were now many interests in the place to oc- 
cupy her mind and she entered into them with zest; 
she chattered and laughed and was gay as the gayest. 
If Tom had seen her he would have thought he had 
no need to borrow so much trouble about her. 
Margaret, on the contrary, was staid and distrait; she 
cared little for the gayeties and performed her duties 
in a sort of automatic way; she hardly knew how she 
got through with them, and she certainly did not care 
as long as she performed them faithfully, so she fell 
into the Brice trap quite easily and unconsciously. As 
he was most unobtrusive in his attentions, she never 
thought about him at all except when he was useful. 


Bnce in Pursuit of Margaret. 173 

and only then while the necessity for utilizing him 
remained. 

Her very impassiveness was his greatest hope. He 
felt sure he had no rival, and reasoned with himself 
that she could have no objections to him as long as she 
was so ready to make use of him. 

Next to himself he loved her, and when their in- 
terests did not conflict, he was willing to do anything 
to make her happy. 

He said in his talks with himself, ^^I’m for Uriel 
Brice every time, and she’s got to come to me and serve 
me with her grand, regal ways. I shall enjoy all the 
better taking her high spirits down. There could be 
no pleasure in the chase if she did not hold herself so 
loftily.” And he gloated over the picture when his 
time should come. 

How, that Mr. Gordon had gone and had made up 
his mind to stay away and was repulsing her psycho- 
logically, she was left unprotected from the assaults of 
the baser mind of him whose thoughts were always with 
her in all his waking hours, holding her to him, and, 
as his intense desire was to keep all other minds from 
perceiving his designs, he threw around her psychically 
an atmosphere that concealed from all others, as well 
as herself, his purpose. 

Very little is understood of this power which is being 
exercised so commonly, more largely or perhaps 
strongly by men, because they are more positive on this 
plane. And the higher and more pure the woman’s 
nature, the easier it is influenced, for she is looking 


174 Currents and Undercurrents. 

above and away from the real actuating motive behind 
the prevailing thought. Like the bird flying high in 
air, she does not see the concealed hunter waiting with 
murderous intent. 

So the greatest villain, mentally, often captures the 
most high-minded woman. A woman on his own plane 
would penetrate his designs, and flght him with his 
own weapons. 

But Brice was wary. Without understanding it him- 
self, he was weaving his thought-images around 
Margaret, spreading his net closer and more close, and 
the unsuspecting girl was fast being bound in a net 
she could not break. Triumph for him was inevitable, 
could be but keep her unconscious until the right time 
came. And he held himself well poised and was de- 
termined to succeed. 

Meantime he had his designs on the business, and 
while he was working to the best of his ability to build 
it up, he did it in such a way that when his plans 
matured, when he should get Margaret so in his power 
that she would lend herself to his interests, he could 
get the whole business in his own hands no matter at 
what loss to others concerned. It never occurred to 
him that she might possibly develop a mind of her 
own, she was so passive; and all his plans were made 
from that point of view. 


CHAPTEE XVII. 


Amusements.— Festivities.— An Accident.— Margaret on Fire. 
-Rescued.— Her Trip to New York.— Brice Follows.— 
Margaret.— Goes South.— Returns to Bington.— Episode 
on the River-bank.— Brice’s Trick.— Margaret Again 
Rescued.— All Is Not Fair in Love and War.— Sick 
Child.— They Meet.— Brice Proposes.— Margaret Con- 
siders.— Accepts. 

As WINTER approached there were fairs, sleigh rides, 
and many kinds of amusements on foot, and the young 
people at Mr. Burns^ proposed to give a musicale to he 
followed by dancing and a general social time. Many 
invitations were issued, and the town was all agog with 
preparations. Dressmakers were working into the ‘Vee 
sma hours” and many nimble pairs of fingers were busy 
at home making the pretty new frock that should adorn 
the fair wearer on that occasion. 

At last the time came. Andrew opened the even- 
ing’s entertainment with a short poetical recitation. 
The musical programme came after and was opened 
by a trio for piano, violin and cornet. Then followed 
a duet for piano and violin, after which Miss Burns 
sang a song, and so on for an hour, when the real 
festivities began. 

All were breathless with expectation and happy at 
the success of each number; applause flowed freely 

175 


176 Currents and Undercurrents. 


and pleasure held high carnival. The musical num- 
bers were really fine, for the Burns family were accom- 
plished musicians, and when at the close of the pro- 
gramme Papa Burns himself gave one of his inimita- 
ble Scotch songs in character, fun and mirth ran riot, 
and the house was almost literally brought down over 
their heads. Encore after encore followed until the 
^^Star of the evening” was borne away in the arms of 
some of his young friends and deposited upon a couch 
in an adjoining room to recover his breath at leisure. 
But he was too vigorous and fun loving to remain long, 
and he raised another peal of laughter by taking a 
short cut another way, and being in the room when his 
^fi)earers” returned. 

Then came the dancing, and all went well until amid 
the general hilarity a luckless individual overturned a 
lamp, the fire from which caught MargarePs dress. 
In an instant she was enveloped in flames. Only Brice 
had presence of mind to tear down one of the draperies 
and wrap the blazing woman in it, holding her tight in 
his arms until the flames were smothered. But he 
had found time in his fright — honestly enough to — to 
murmur in her ear, ^^Oh, darling ! 0 my life ! What if 
you had been killed!” and then he released her and 
yielded himself to attention, for his hands were badly 
burned. 

Fortunately Margaret escaped with little injury ex- 
cept her clothing and from fright. The refreshments 
were enjoyed in a much soberer mood than had pre- 
vailed, and amid dreadful thoughts of what might have 
been hut for the presence of mind of Mr. Brice, who 


177 


Amusements and Consequences. 

they thought, would as a matter of course, risk his life 
to save Margaret. As his words were overheard, every- 
one took his heroic act as a matter of course. 

Margaret herself scarce heeded the words and not 
until she was safely at home and divested of her 
burned clothing did the full import of them come to 
her. What a shock! Brice say that to her? Non- 
sense 1 She had never given him any liberty by 
thought or act to speak that way to her. How dare he ? 

Then came another shocking thought. He had 
saved her from an agonizing death and really took some 
risk with his own life ; in fact, he was now suffering and 
she had come away without even thanking him. There 
was no excuse for this, how could she have been so 
thoughtless? It only served to show how little she 
thought about him anyway. 

There is no woman who feels other than kindly to- 
wards a man who loves her; even a heartless coquette 
is gratified, and Margaret tried to he in this case. She 
saw that his fright was genuine, and she presumed his 
words were, hut they filled her with disgust while she 
pitied him. 

Could it he possible he had long loved her ? She had 
never even thought of him except to tolerate him. 
Then little things cropped out from her memory to 
which she had paid no heed. How much they had been 
seen in public together ! Certain remarks and allusions 
came to her mind that she had given no thought to, 
and his delicate, though pointed, attentions, until she 
was completely overwhelmed, and almost wished she 
had been burned to a crisp rather than saved under 


178 Currents and Undercurrents. 

such circumstances. And now she was under obliga- 
tion to him and for her life ! Any woman would know 
he would persist in his attentions after what had 
passed. What should she do ? There was nothing for 
it but to send him a note of thanks and keep out of 
his way in the future, and so she settled it with herself 
and went to sleep. 

The next morning she sent a note to Brice thanking 
him, and expressing her regrets for his injuries, and 
with the consent of the family, set out for New York 
to visit her aunt who had been pressing her to come. 
Before Brice could come to see her she was off, and 
determined to stay away until the whole affair was 
forgotten. 

Before many days, Brice, who had made the most 
of his burns for effect, called at Mr. Stanley's and in- 
quired for Margaret. Great was his chagrin to find she 
was gone. He had spent his idle days laying plans 
and he was impatient to carry them out, and he sus- 
pected the truth with regard to her going. He was 
determined not to be balked in his plans, but the only 
thing he could do was to possess himself in as much 
patience as he could command until she returned. But 
as the weeks went by and there was no sign of her 
return, he grew impatient, and to add to his troubles 
he became frantically jealous. 

^‘What if she had fallen in love with one of those 
New York dudes! She would not stay so long unless 
there was some reason. Those city fellows would pick 
up such a girl as she pretty quick,” he thought. She 
did not love him he very well knew, and a girl was 


179 


Amusements and Consequences. 

always caught by a city fellow. She wasn’t staying 
there all this time for nothing. The longer he thought 
about it the more alarmed he became, and he resolved 
to go to New York and find out for himself. He pro- 
cured leave of absence for a few days and went to New 
York. He called at Mr. Stanley’s and inquired for 
Margaret, hut she was not at home and no one knew 
when she would he in. He found enough to do to 
occupy him until the next day when he called at a 
different hour, but the servant said she was unable to 
see anyone. He shut his teeth hard, but sent up his 
card, asking what time he could see her tomorrow. 
Her aunt came down to say they were to leave the 
city in the early morning for a trip to the South to he 
absent indefinitely. She brought Miss Stanley’s regrets 
that he came in so unfortunate a time, and a message 
to her brother with which the persistent suitor was 
' obliged to be content. 

The shock to Margaret of his presence there was so 
great it made her really ill, and filled her with terror. 
She began to understand his persistence and a great 
fear overtook her lest she could not escape him. Was 
it a premonition ? She could not tell. She was so un- 
nerved her aunt planned the little trip for her 
diversion. 

Margaret’s repugnance for Brice was now mixed with 
fear, she could not tell why. She dreamed about him, 
and in her dreams he was always clutching for her 
with the most sardonic grin upon his face, and she 
only just escaped him. However, when they were out 
of New York she became more tranquil, and as new 


/ 


i8o 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


things came up to take her attention she gradually lost 
the fear and became herself again. Yet her intuition 
enabled her to feel his plottings and gave her a dim 
sort of comprehension of them. 

Woman’s intuition is given her for her protection 
in just such cases, hut our knowledge of the psychic 
world is so limited, we do not always know how to 
interpret our impressions ; besides the materialistic 
lives we live bury us deep under their debris, and we 
only ^^see through a glass darkly” what is meant to be 
to us clear as the light of day. There are no secrets 
in nature, ^^all who run may read.” All mind is One, 
and in the soul realm every soul sees every other soul 
face to face. What one knows, all may know, but we 
repulse our souls when they would warn us, and accept 
only what our physical senses enforce upon us, generally 
speaking. Only those who obey the call and listen to 
the ‘^still small voice” can read the sounds from the 
Eternal. 

Margaret’s soul was alive to her danger now and she 
fled from it in horror. Brice was furious and cursed 
his bad luck. He accused fate of an attempt to balk 
him and swore to himself he would win her, fate or no 
fate. 

Some weeks elapsed and Margaret had found her 
equilibrium; the terror and dread had left her, but the 
repugnance remained. The invisible cord that held 
her, through his thought, was there, had never been 
broken, yet it was less in her sight; it did not seem so 
tense, she had become accustomed to it. 

Unfortunately she could not remain away always^ 


Amusements and Consequences, i8i 

the time came when she must go home. She thought 
she understood herself now and was safe; she resolved 
to avoid Brice so pointedly he would understand what 
she meant and would keep his distance. Alas! She 
did not know the man. He quickly saw she avoided 
and disliked him, hut the more he was foiled the more 
mental energy he put into his purpose. 

He kept constant watch over her movements, as she 
saw, hut outwardly he was most unobtrusive and 
neither sought nor avoided her. He paid no atten- 
tion to any other woman except such as could not he 
avoided, and it was a carefully studied part of his 
plan that society should not understand the state of 
affairs between them. 

As time passed and he made no farther advances, 
Margaret’s fears were allayed and her vigilance re- 
laxed. She thought he had understood her intention 
and accepted the inevitable. How little did she know 
of the persistent energy men put into their pursuit of 
women. 

She had taken to going off by herself to a secluded 
but very delightful nook on the river hank with her 
hook and her thoughts, spending in that way, many 
tranquil hours. At such times her mind flew to Mr. 
Gordon on his distant journey and wandered with him 
in the wilds of thought among his savage surroundings. 

Brice discovered her retreat, and frequently went to 
watch her as she sat there, but with great care that she 
should not see him. He contrived, however, to he seen 
by others and that it should appear there had been a 
lover’s meeting. 


i 82 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


One afternoon he followed her, taking with him a 
large dog belonging to a friend. He carefully planned 
his position, and threw a small pebble for the dog into 
the river, Bruno hounding after it, full tilt. Margaret 
hearing a rushing sound, looked up from her book in 
time to see a savage looking dog with mouth agape 
coming toward her at full speed. She sprang to her 
feet taking a step forward as she did so and slipped 
on a rolling stone that caused her to lose her balance 
and plunge toward the river which ran close under the 
steep bank upon which she sat. She would have fallen 
into the rapidly running waters had not a pair of strong 
arms seized her, drawing her back and holding her in a 
close embrace. 

She was much frightened, and could not gain her self- 
control for a moment or escape. While she was held in 
the fellow’s arms with her face close to his and he was 
saying, as it appeared, involuntarily, ^^My angel ! Again, 
again you are saved!” his propitious fate sent a boat- 
load of people sailing down the river in full sight of 
them, and Margaret struggled out of his arms to see the 
laughing faces of her own friends, who put their own 
construction upon what they saw, and waved their 
hands and cheered in great glee. 

Margaret’s indignation knew no bounds. She turned 
upon her tormentor to vent her anger and met so 
humble and abashed a look and such profuse apologies 
that she had nothing to say. am sure. Miss Stanley, 
they must have seen you fall,” he was saying, “and 
knew why I held you. I was so startled at seeing that 
immense dog making for you, and then you fell; what 


Amusements and Consequences. 183 

could a man do ? I could not let you go into the river 

Then she was forced to thank him and he ashamed of 
herself, for he really looked pale and troubled, and she 
could not refuse to sit down as he suggested, for she was 
trembling like a leaf, or allow him to, for the same 
reason. He was much disturbed, fearing he had spoiled 
his chances, she was so indignant. He took the remote 
end of the seat and left her to recover herself, and he 
seemed in every way so thoughtful of her that she began 
to think she was too barbarous and unjust to him, es- 
pecially as she could give herself no reason for her feel- 
ing of abhorrence. It was only that she felt an utter 
repugnance to him that she could neither describe nor 
explain. She realized he was a man and could not be 
blamed for being susceptible to a woman’s charms, and 
(outwardly) he was gentlemanly and had done her noth- 
ing but kindness. She must not allow herself to be so 
unjust and unreasonable, so she tried to speak kindly 
to him and be grateful for his opportune presence. 
His (inward) satisfaction knew no bounds. To find 
himself alone and on good terms with her was almost 
more than his self-restraint was equal to, but he made 
a strong effort, and was so thoughtful and delicate in 
his treatment of her that she really felt softened to- 
wards him. 

After he saw she was fully restored he left her, bend- 
ing low over her hand in a tremor of emotion too strong 
to be concealed. - 

He was so elated and happy over the success of his 
experiment he could hardly walk. He felt more like 


184 Currents and Undercurrents. 

flying, and if the old saying is true that, ^^All is fair in 
love and war,^^ well he might feel so. 

But it is not true. It is not fair for a man to pursue 
a woman who has no natural affinity for him, and when 
his only motive is his own personal aggrandizement. 
He did not love her for her sake, but for his own, for 
the use he could make of her in his home and business 
life, to help build him up; and her good or happiness 
was not considered at all. Men too often forget that 
the women they seek are living beings with souls and 
highly sensitive organizations that suffer intensely from 
their careless treatment, to say nothing of real abuse. 
May the spirit of Good forgive men for all they have 
made women suffer needlessly. 

Many women do wrong and are wicked, but when it is 
carefully traced, it is sure to go back to some ancestor 
of depraved habits or to some man who has abused or 
betrayed them. The first cause is necessarily with the 
earthly element, represented by the male. Shall we 
blame the man ? As well ask if we shall blame the cat 
that plays with and tortures the mouse. Cats must eat. 
Their nature is to be cruel, they are thinking of them- 
selves and not of the mouse. Exactly! That is the 
way with men. Women as a class take their cue from 
men. But are we all animals ? Man has evolved self 
consciousness and it is that which places him above 
animals. He knows he is cruel and what it means to 
be cruel; he can enter into and understand the feelings 
of a person well or cruelly treated, there lies his re- 
sponsibility. He has not the right to be cruel that a cat 
has; he knows better, he does not like to be cruelly 


Amusements and Consequences. 185 

treated himself, and resents it with all his strength. 
It remained for ^^The Christ’^ to give the rule of con- 
duct. ^^Do unto others as ye would they should do 
unto you.^^ How many men do this by women ? I have 
heard men say they had rather be anything than a 
woman. Why? Only because women are slaves, with 
as God-given a right to be free as man. 

Margaret’s resistance once broken she began to think 
better of Brice. Outwardly no fault could be found 
with him. If only the creepy feeling would go away, 
something that made her think of snakes. 

If any feeling predominated in Margaret’s mind it 
was a strong sense of justice and she could not reconcile 
her conscience to the way she felt toward Brice, so 
she resolved to try to see his good qualities, not with 
any thought of marrying him, oh, no! only to be just 
to him. 

Much to her annoyance and chagrin she was subject 
to the mischievous jokes of her boating friends, and 
the more she attempted to explain, the harder they 
laughed, and she learned to her great consternation 
that she was considered to be engaged to Brice. As 
she looked back into the past year or so, she saw how 
it might be possible, and while she denied it and did 
her best to counteract the impression, unconsciously to 
herself her mind became familiar with the idea. Its 
utter absurdity, as far as she was concerned, still 
farther disarmed her. 

Her feeling for Mr. Gordon, her real lover, had 
rather intensified than lessened. His lonely wander- 
ings could not assuage his pain, and personal absence 


i86 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


drew them together on the psychic plane. Though 
both were ignorant of the laws that governed that side 
of life, they were none the less answering to those 
laws in spite of themselves, and this underlying feeling 
that she could not account for or understand, held her 
to the determination not to marry. She loathed the 
thought of it since he was gone. 

Meantime Brice was gaining ground in the com- 
munity and with his employers. He was much re- 
spected and was coming to be one of the solid men of 
the town. The business, too, was increasing and his 
employers knew that he was largely instrumental in 
their success and advanced him accordingly. His out- 
ward life was spotless. She could find no fault with 
him. Brice had lost sight of his first motives as he 
advanced in his business, and as fair means seemed 
adequate to carry out his plans. His intense love for 
Margaret was purifying him, he was raised toward her 
level in spite of himself. 

His love was getting the better of him with the 
little encouragement he had had. He was sure he could 
not wait much longer, his longing to he with her was 
so strong. He met her here and there in society and 
she certainly was more kind, and his hopes continued 
to rise. 

Again fate came to his aid. The little child of a 
poor woman in whom people were much interested, was 
taken ill with croup. Word was sent to Margaret who 
immediately went to help and comfort the afflicted 
mother, who was a widow, and this child her all. Its 


Amusements and Consequences. 187 

sufferings were great and the mother was beside herself 
with grief. 

Brice hearing of it, also went to her assistance, this 
time without knowing Margaret was there. He was so 
tender and gentle, Margaret^s gratitude was earned, 
and when he held the little child in his strong arms 
and the thankful dying eyes sought his and trusted him 
to help her into the Beyond, Margaret for the first time 
felt admiration for the man; and after the little life 
had gone out and the last sad offices were performed, 
the mother left in kindly hands, they walked home in 
the early dawn, the most sacred and tender feelings of 
both were awakened and he told her the story of his 
patient love, and she, overborne by her gentle sadness 
and the influences of the hour, promised to think over 
his proposition and in a week give him her answer. At 
this time the very best of his nature was uppermost, 
his love was earnest and honest, it needed no simula- 
tion, and his mental atmosphere was as pure as from 
his nature it could be. This affected Margaret very 
strongly, her repugnance to him was abated because 
there was nothing in his mind to antagonize her. 

But at the best her thoughts were agonizing. Mar- 
riage with Brice was entire separation from Gordon. 
She had not thought she had any hope of anything 
else, but when she came face to face with the idea, she 
found, much to her astonishment, that a hope still 
lingered there that she should see him again and per- 
haps they would become friends. 

This she did not like after a man had so far for- 
gotten himself as he had with no cause on her part for 


i88 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


anger, and then gone off on a foreign tour without as 
much as an attempt at a reconciliation. Where was her 
pride that she should for a moment desire such a re- 
newal ? She would marry this man, she would conquer 
this feeling, she was sure she should overcome it if she 
had interest in another, and her duties as a wife to 
sustain her. From a worldly point of view nothing 
was wanting, and we must remember Margaret did not 
see and know what we do of the subtleties of the case. 
She resolved to he honest with him and tell him she 
did not love him, 'but if he still wished to marry her 
she would consent. 

All the week Brice was in such a state of excitement 
and anxiety as he would not have thought himself 
capable of, and when he went to get his answer, his 
trepidation was overpowering. He walked the street 
up and down before he could screw his courage to the 
point of going in, for now the tables were turned. 
Margaret was calm and firm, but he was weak as a 
little child. He finally mustered courage to ring the 
bell and soon was ushered into Margaret’s presence. 

She received him with kindness and calmly told him 
she could not give him her love, she had given that else- 
where long ago, but she never expected to see the man 
she had loved, again, and if she was sure he would be 
happier with her as she was, she would do as much as 
she could to make him a good wife. 

It was a terrible disappointment to him, he had 
been so sure she was free, but his whole being was set 
towards her and had been so long, he could not turn. 
Have her he must. He would be so kind and tender 


Amusements and Consequences. 


189 


of her she could not help hut love him, he longed for 
her, and a home of his own in which she should be the 
presiding genius; he could only say he accepted her 
gladly as she was and was sure he could make her love 
him because he would be so tender of her, and his love 
was so great she must return it in time. So arrange- 
ments for a speedy marriage were made. If Margaret 
could have analyzed her mind, as we can, she would 
have found, much to her surprise, that she was in 
feverish haste to have it over for fear she should, in 
spite of herself, not be able to carry out her resolution. 
She had no idea what she was risking and was only 
buoyed up to her present state of mind by her indignant 
and somewhat revengeful thoughts towards Mr. Gor- 
don. She would show him she was not wasting her 
life for him, there were others that could appreciate 
her if he did not! 

Only through this weakness in her character could 
Brice win his point. A perfect character could not be 
touched by an imperfect one. It is only by some latent 
weakness in us that the imperfect mind can reach us; 
there must be some peg to fasten the telegraphic wire 
upon; Margaret’s was pride. Brice’s less developed 
and so lower mind had caught on to this weak point 
as being the only one in sympathy with him, and at the 
last moment it had developed to carry out his purpose. 


190 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


CHAPTEK XVIII. 

Margaret Married.— Old Feelings Renewed.— Wedding -Trip. 
—Home Again.— Uncle Eben.— A Year Passed.— Brice’s 
Happiness. 

Margaret was married. The wedding took place 
very quietly much to the chagrin of Brice who would 
have liked great display, hut she would not have it so, 
and consoling himself with the thought that he would 
soon have things his own way, he yielded, reckoning 
without his host, however, for Margaret with her eyes 
open was not as easily moulded as he expected. 

The first touch of the man as they sped toward the 
station in the carriage alone awoke the old antagonism 
afresh in MargarePs mind. The change in his mind 
and the feeling that he was sure of her, and she was 
entirely in his power, pierced her like a Idiife. She 
could no longer stand on her dignity and keep him at 
arm’s length. She belonged to him now and as that 
thought swept over her, she involuntarily made a move- 
ment to open the carriage door and escape, hut she 
caught herself in time and battled with what seemed 
to her a most unreasonable feeling. 

He did not know, of course, that his thoughts had 
reached her; he considered himself secure with them 
unexpressed and thought he kept his own secrets. Had 
he been told that all the mentality of the universe 


Margaret Married. 


191 

knew it (because all mind is One) and all minds of his 
class could pick it out and possess it if they understood 
the law, he would have considered it an evidence of 
insanity. ^^Truth is stranger than fiction,” and it be- 
hooves us to think only such thoughts as we would be 
willing to have known. This is the secret of clairvoy- 
ance. The ^^seer” reads from the One mind. 

We will draw a veil over Margaret’s bridal trip. 
Many a woman who reads this can imagine it. Had 
she realized what it meant to be owned and have to 
merge her will into that of a person repulsive to her, 
she would have drowned herself first. 

A new and very pretty house had been fitted up for 
them and when they returned at the end of three 
weeks everything was ready for them. A tidy maid 
had been installed and the family were there to receive 
them. An exquisite repast had been prepared under 
Eena’s supervision. The house was profusely decorated 
with flowers. 

When they left the cars at the station garrulous 
Uncle Eben who had discoursed of Margaret to Mr. Gor- 
don stood on the platform eagerly looking at Margaret. 
After he had caught a glimpse of her face he turned 
away muttering to himself, ^There, dang it! I knew 
how t’would be, — she looks like a lily thet’s bin froze 
stiff ’n jest thawed out ’nuff to look wilted. Dang 
him ! I d’now but she looks more like a little bird thet’s 
bin crushed by a snake. He jest charmed her es a 
snake duz ’nd swaller’d her hull afterward. He’s most 
killed her’n he’ll finish her ef suthin ain’t dun. I’ll 
fix ’im yit!” and he doubled up his first and shook it 


jgi Currents and Undercurrents. 

at him and went pegging slowly up the street, while 
the newly wedded pair entered their carriage and were 
driven rapidly home. 

Margaret was making great effort to appear happy. 
She attributed her dull looks to the fatigue of travel 
and was as cheerful as she possibly could be with the 
darkest of shadows hanging over her life. Poor 
Margaret! But how many women have trodden the 
path before you! 

She was glad to get home and to feel she was not 
alone with her husband Their trip had been pleasant 
and he had been supremely happy and most kind in his 
way and she appreciated it. If she could only get 
over the personal repugnance she felt for him; to be 
caressed by him was intolerable. As long as he was 
away from her it seemed not so hard, but he thought 
he could only win her by persistent attentions and 
lavished upon her all the care and personal endear- 
ments he thought would be so agreeable to her, and 
they certainly were to him. And she tried for her own 
sake, as well as his, to like him. She supposed newly 
married women generally felt as she did, and managed 
to accept his attentions without being offensive. But 
in spite of herself she seemed to him cold and distant. 
He, too, thought it was because she was as yet strange 
to him and that it would not be so always, and he did 
not see that a woman, forced to marry a man, cannot 
be forced to love him, neither can she force herself. 
Both of them tried to console themselves by thinking 
it would all come right in time. 

Life sped on with them. A year had passed. They 


Margaret Married. 193 

had become somewhat adjusted to each other and found 
much to admire, and some things that were not so 
admirable in each other, as all married people do. 
Margaret practically overcame her repugnance to him, 
and had she not loved Mr. Gordon and been constantly 
called towards him by his thought dwelling upon her, 
she might in time have learned to feel affection for her 
husband, for he was always kind in his way, and tried 
to make her love him. He was happy in his home, for 
Margaret made it most delightful, and he had never 
known before what home life was. His mother had 
done the best she could for him, and boarding houses, 
not always first-class, had been his lot since. The 
quiet elegance, the cheerfulness and brightness of his 
own home, was a constant delight to him, even when 
he had learned that his wife did not love him, there 
was so much improvement in his life, so much added 
to his comfort in every way, he was quite contented and 
happy, and tried not to miss what he so much wished 
for, — Margaret’s love. But her stately beauty was his, 
whether she liked it or not, and he gloried in it, and 
made the most of what happiness he had. 

She never for a day or an hour forgot Mr. Gordon 
any more than she forgot to breathe. He was a part of 
her life, but she did not recognize that. The pulsa- 
tions of her soul responded to his as the steel does to 
the magnet, unconsciously. It was the resistance of 
his soul in their psychic life, to Brice’s possession of 
her, that kept Margaret always on the rack, and helped 
to bring out Brice in his proper light. The psychol- 
ogical phase of our existence is so little understood 


194 Currents and Undercurrents. 

that the happenings of onr everyday life puzzle and 
confound us, when they are perfectly simple and 
natural, if rightly understood. Brice was yet in his 
heaven, which was Margaret^s pure atmosphere, and it 
made another man of him. He was satisfied, and there 
was nothing to bring to the surface his bas«r qualities 
or tempt him. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


Corinne 111.— Death.— Confession.— Promises.— Tom Visits 
Rena.— Revelation.— Wedding Day Appointed. 

In' the year that had passed, great changes had come 
in Tom^s life. Corinne, who was always delicate, had 
sown the seeds of her restless and unreasonable temper, 
in her mind, and the effects of such sowing were show- 
ing themselves in her body, which is nature’s way of 
expressing her law, and she was rapidly fading away, 
burning her candle of life at both ends, and her days 
were numbered and few, with her husband and friends. 
Tom had been most devoted to her and she had literally 
lived on his strong magnetic nature. He was by her 
side night and day, sometimes holding her as he would 
a little child, lifting her, administering her medicines, 
and doing all the little things an invalid requires, for 
she would have no one else; and so he watched the 
young life go out and the frail body yield to the spirit 
that was overcoming it. Her querulousness was all 
gone now; she lay in a state of exhaustion, her great, 
spiritual-looking eyes following Tom whichever way 
he turned, with the yearning of her whole soul in them, 
and a wistfulness that was very harrowing to him. 
She wished to say something to him but seemed not to 
have the courage. 

One day, however, she felt stronger, and beckoned 

195 


196 Currents and Undercurrenty 


him to sit beside her. Laying her little, delicate hand 
in his great strong palm, she drew him close to her 
and said: ‘^Tom dear, you have been so good to me, 
so patient! Lying here, I have had time to think it 
all over and see things as they are. I am very near to 
the other shore, my beloved, and when one gets so close 
to the margin of the river, Tom, the light from the 
spirit side makes everything clear, and I can see some- 
thing I want to tell you. I want you to remember that 
I appreciated all your noble self-denial, all your de- 
votion to a little girl you did not love. You have 
been so patient, dear, you have tried so hard to cover 
your feelings and appear to give me all the love I 
craved. You have made my life all happiness as far as 
my restless nature could he happy, and I did not per- 
ceive the truth until lately, when it came to me that 
I could not stay here with you long. But one day as I 
awoke from a heavier sleep than usual, a beautiful 
angel stood before me, calm, serene, and smiling, and 
told me they wanted me in the Happy Land, and that 
I must let go of you and be willing to go. And when 
I cried out for you and said I could not, she took me 
back to the night on the veranda when I thought you 
told me you loved me, and she showed me — Oh, Tom! 
how can I tell you ? — But she showed me that when you 
told me how you should feel if you loved, you were 
not thinking of me at all, as I supposed you were, 
because I loved you so, Tom dear. I did not want it 
any other way. But she told me you were not think- 
ing of me at all, but of Eena Stanley, whom you had 
known and loved all your life. 


Death of Corinne. 


197 


thought I should die right then, darling; hut the 
sweet, kind angel gave me strength, and I thought it 
all over and knew it was true; and if I had not been so 
blind through my infatuation for you, I must have 
seen it from the first. 

^^Now, dear, I must tell you all. I had made up my 
mind I would get you to propose that night and had 
made a plan to get you into that corner and lead up to 
the subject, and when you so readily fell into my trap, I 
was, oh, so happy! I did not think whether I was 
mistaken or not; in fact, I do not think I should have 
let you off if I had. I was so inexperienced, and so 
determined in my wilfulness to have you. 

^‘But the good angel showed me many things, and 
I saw why I could not stay with you. And now my 
own! my own! for you are mine yet, I want you to 
promise me something. Will you, dear?” 

^^Yes, Corinne, my dear little girl, I will promise to 
do anything you wish, if I can, if it will make you 
happier.” 

^^Oh, it will make me happier, Tom, it will ! I could 
not rest up there with the beautiful angels, unless you 
did, and I shall be happy, oh, so happy! for the angel 
showed it to me. If you are only happy here, and I 
can make up to you and Eena all these years I have had 
you to myself when you belonged to her. 

^^After I have gone to my happiness, I want you to 
tell Eena all I have told you and ask her to take my 
place and forgive me. Tell her it is my wish, and if the 
dear angels will let me, I will come to you after you are 
together, as the beautiful angel came to me, and show 


198 Currents and Undercurrents. 


you how glad I am that you are really happy at last. 
And Tom, if you could live here at home as you do 
now until they all get over missing me, I should be so 
glad. Oh, Tom! if you really could! but I shall not 
make you promise that, though I want it so much. 

^^Now, hold me close in your arms, dearest, close, 
for I am so tired.^^ And he gathered her up and held 
her close and she fell asleep. 

He was so filled with conflicting emotions, so torn 
with anguish on the one side and joy on the other, so 
shaken from the very depths of his nature, he did not 
notice when the faint breath stopped, or see the blessed 
angel that bore her to her Happy Land. 

When her mother entered the room a little later, they 
discovered the tired body was left behind, the freed 
spirit had flown, and they were bereaved. 

Thy laid her away amid beautiful flowers, and when 
they questioned him of her last moments, he told them 
the pathetic story, amid many tears, but with rejoicings 
for the faith that had made her last hours so happy. 

It was many months before Tom dared to go home to 
Kena, and these months were filled with many sad 
thoughts of the tender young life that had come to 
such an untimely close. Corinne had lovely traits of 
character, and the unlovely ones were those of tempera- 
ment for which she was not to blame, and not those 
of a bad heart. The restlessness and self-love were the 
blots on an otherwise lovely character. Her educa- 
tion, or want of it, on those points must take the 
blame, not she. 

She was sadly missed, and not the least of all by; 


Death of Corinne. 


199 

Tom ; for who can spend so much patient kindness upon 
any one, and not learn to love her? 

But now he was free, and urged by the family, he 
went home to lay before Rena the story of his marriage. 
The day was bright and beautiful, the atmosphere was 
soft and warm, the birds sang merrily, and all nature 
was budding into new life in the lovely spring time, and 
Tom^s heart sang with joy as the train crept along 
towards his heart’s desire, for though it was a fast 
express it was all too slow for his eager thoughts. 

His journey terminated in due time, and he was 
once again among his native hills. He could hardly 
curb his impatience long enough to go home, but he did 
so, and as soon as dinner was dispatched, he turned his 
steps toward the Stanleys. His thoughts flew, and his 
feet did their best to keep pace with them, for he was 
very doubtful about his fate. Rena was now some- 
what older in years, and much older in experience, and 
he feared her mind had totally changed with the cir- 
cumstances. He knew it was a great shock to her when 
he married, and she had so long been under the im- 
pression that he was a dishonest man, untrue to him- 
self and to her, she might not accept the story, or if 
she did, the love she had for him might have been 
killed; but he knew her to be so steadfast and faithful, 
he hoped she was not changed past recall, and he might 
yet be a happy man and be able to make amends for all 
he had made her suffer. 

Arrived at the house, he sought Rena whom he had 
not seen since his marriage, and poured out his story 
and heart to her. But she did not speak, sitting in 


200 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


stony silence, deathly pale and with no response, only 
silence; not even an encouraging look. ‘^My little 
girl,^^ he pleaded, ^^cannot you forgive and forget this 
most unhappy past and give your love and yourself to 
your childhood^s friend ? I cannot remember the time 
when you did not seem to belong to me, until this sad 
mistake occurred. You are a part of my life; you 
have grown up with my thoughts and moulded them 
to your own sweet will. My love for you has made me 
what I am. I always held myself ^ure, I honored all 
women for your sake. I tried to live the life you would 
have me. You were ever present in my thought, and 
you will not let the mistake of poor, innocent Corinne 
come between us? Can you not see how much I 
suffered in doing what I knew you would think right ? 
You will not blight my life again? 0, Eena, my darl- 
ing ! I could not hear it to have to give you up again !” 

But she was cold and unresponsive. She could not 
gather herself so soon. She would not have been 
human, had she not, after Corinne’s transition, thought 
of the possibility of Tom’s returning to her, now his 
business success was assured, and the object for which 
he married attained. But she felt such a repugnance 
to such a course of action, it seemed so base to her, 
she could not think for a moment of renewing their 
old relations. Much as she loved him, even now, her 
sense of right and wrong was so keen that she could 
not easily forgive or forget; and over all was the terri- 
ble disappointment of finding the man she had re- 
vered and worshipped, so utterly base as to sell him- 
self for money and forsake her. .This had cut her 


Death of Corinne. 


201 


the sharpest of all. N'o! she said to herself, I would 
not accept his love ; the charm has gone. Her idol was 
shattered forever. 

But although she had listened coldly to his story, 
the aspect of things was changed. The closed doors 
of her heart were opened, but they did not swing wide 
apart. It was not in her nature to change quickly 
when she had spent the whole force of her being closing 
and locking the doors of her mind against him, and 
she could not turn to him again all at once, and flood 
him with love and sunshine. She was too strong a 
character, too self -poised; it had taken her quite too 
long to close those doors. For a long time little rays 
of light would, in spite of her, creep in through the 
crevices of her mind, and yet the one, dull, dismal 
fact stared her in the face; he was married to Corinne 
and it could not he changed, whether he loved her 
or not. Finally she overcame her pain, locked the 
door of her mind, and threw the key away, and now 
it was not easy to find it. She had only come to the 
point of willingness to try, when she should he sure 
of the morning lights being pure and strong. 

She sat with her hands folded idly in her lap, looking 
down upon them until the recital was finished, and 
Tom’s passionate appeal was ended. 

Won’t you understand how it was Eena ?” said Tom 
in despair. ^‘^Will you not forgive what I could not 
help? Can you not love me now when I have shown 
you all my grief? Can it he too late? Have mercy, 
0, my lone star among women, shine once again for me; 
have I not suffered enough? You cannot be so cruel! 


202 Currents and Undercurrents. 

Do you not see I loved you enough to be willing you 
should suffer for what I thought you would consider 
right? Not willing! No, oh, my heart! I could 
never willingly see you suffer for anything, but I had 
such confidence in your high sense of honor, I thought 
you would prefer it, and I was glad to think you were 
so high, and I could trust you to suffer for what was 
right. Do you not see, my dear love, how I must have 
loved you to have trusted you so much ? Speak to me 
Rena! I cannot bear it! Have I quite broken your 
poor heart ? Did I count too much on your strength ? 
It was a terrible ordeal, I know. Then you did love 
me, didn’t you, sweet? You seemed to be always 
mine.” 

But she was paralyzed. She could neither look up 
nor speak. The shock of joy was greater than that of 
pain in the days of her bitter disappointment. She 
had to call up all the force of her nature to withstand 
it. Now she had only to be passive and receive the 
new joy, and she could not. She thought she was 
dying; and her body swayed to one side, and she fell 
in a swoon. Tom caught her in time to save her from 
falling, and his warm clasp broke the spell; and she 
wept and sobbed as does Dame Nature after a long 
drouth when the springs are all lapped up by the burn- 
ing heat, and the earth throbs in wild despair in its 
desire to escape the merciless sun that is burning its 
life away. 

Tom understood; and he soothed and petted her as 
would a mother her hurt child, until finally the 


Death of Corinne. 


203 


paroxysm was over, and she was utterly exhausted. 
Then he laid her upon the couch and left her to the 
kindly offices of sleep, which he knew must come after 
such a breaking-up. He felt satisfied now, and saw 
with consternation how terrible had been her trial, and 
how courageously she had borne it. 

After he left the room, he went in search of Mrs. 
Stanley to whom he told the story, and from her he 
learned much that enlightened him as to Eena’s state 
of mind. 

He then went home and retold his thrilling tale 
to his own family, after which he felt that he was 
himself again. He had taken the part of the unprin- 
cipled knave long enough in his role of life, and was 
glad to be once more recognized as an honest man. 
His relief was immense. 

Later he went again to see Eena, and now found her 
all his heart desired. 

^^Oh, Tom dear,” she said, thought I should die 
of the joy of knowing you were my own honest Tom. 
It was quite too much after the long, dreary months in 
which I . had to think such bad thoughts of you. How 
you are wholly mine; and I will hold you always, and 
never let you go again,” and she twined her arms about 
his neck and pressed her throbbing lips to his in perfect 
freedom and complete confidence. 

Happy Tom! this was compensation, indeed! And 
now, when? He could not wait for her long, he said. 
Time enough had been lost from out their lives — they 
must be together. 


204 Currents and Undercurrents. 

But mother and Margaret must be consulted before 
that could be decided. So a conference meeting was 
held, and two months reluctantly given by impatient 
Tom. Then he went back to report his pleasant news, 
and receive the congratulations of all the Langley 
family. 


CHAPTEE XX. 


Brice’s State of Mind. — A New Bookkeeper. — Failure.— Vil- 
lainy.— Brice Gets Business.— Confidential with Book- 
keeper.— Jealousy. —Plottings. —Arrest. —Counterplots.— 
Bribes.— Margaret Suspicious.— Change in Home Life.— 
Retrospection.— Bad News.— Forgot Law.— Ad venture.— 
Sickness.— Death. 

Matters had moved along in an even manner with 
Margaret and Brice. She loved him no better but 
tolerated him with a very good grace. She certainly 
was not happy, neither was she really miserable. Her 
home was pleasant for she made it so; and she had, 
apparently, everything to make her comfortable. But 
the one, great longing was ever there, much as she tried 
to ignore it. 

Brice was disappointed. Margaret was more superior, 
every way, than he anticipated. She was to him so 
much more beautiful, grand and lovable, that she gave 
him far greater happiness than he had looked for, but 
she had no place in her mind for any of his little pet 
schemes ^for his own aggrandizement, as he plainly 
saw. He might as well appeal to one of the calm, 
bright stars, with a scheme for getting money under 
false pretenses. She shone too high. 

He knew he never could make her understand him, 
and the old, ambitious hunger for money and power 

205 


2o6 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


was on him again. He wanted money for her. To see 
her shine in gorgeous raiment, with a liveried coach, 
and to surround her with the riches of India would 
be his pleasure; but in order to do that he must make 
money, and legitimate business methods were too slow 
for him. His scheming brain began to work, and a 
mind like his never thinks of building up without first 
tearing down. To build his own fortunes he must 
break down some other man’s. 

His first plan was to get hold of the factory, oust 
Andrew and his partner and get the business into his 
own hands; then enlarge it, and strike out in new 
paths by methods all his own that he had long con- 
templated. This he hoped to do and keep his good 
name and position, and also keep from Margaret all 
knowledge of his iniquity, for he valued her good 
opinion more than all others. 

He had shown so much capacity for the business, 
that a woman book-keeper was procured, and he was 
brought more into the active management of the firm. 
Many ways were now open to him that his prolific brain 
could make use of. But in order to carry out his 
schemes he must have a woman’s help, and since 
Margaret’s aid was impossible he must have some one’s 
else, therefore, he chose the new book-keeper. Miss 
Deming. She was a short, dark woman about thirty 
years old; honest enough, but capable of being in- 
fluenced in dishonest directions if it seemed to her 
interest. He began by expressing great admiration for 
her business methods, and as a second step, used the 
only means a man knowS; made love to her. He thus 


Brice in Business. 


207 


secured her entire cooperation, and the two together 
planned and executed a most atrocious scheme that 
ruined Andrew and his partner, and left the scoundrel 
in such a position that he could buy for a song the 
whole plant, and conduct it alone. 

The business methods and good standing of the 
former firm soon put them on their feet again, and 
created a competition young Brice had not counted on. 
This necessitated more risks than he had desired to 
take, but now he was in the swim, he must go with the 
tide. Besides, he trusted to his natural ability to bring 
circumstances around to fit his needs, and he worked 
on with confidence, also keeping up the part of humani- 
tarian he was playing in the community and at home. 

Margaret was entirely unsuspicious, but she was 
conscious of a change of feeling toward her husband. 
She could not tell why, but you, dear reader, know that 
when he took into his life another woman, he also took 
her thought atmosphere, for she was nearer his own 
crafty level. This changed him for the worse with- 
out his knowledge, as much as he had changed for the 
better when he married Margaret; and the new combi- 
nation jarred on Margaret’s sensitive nature. She 
merely tolerated him before, now she had hard work 
not to hate him. He looked differently to her now. 
The mental combination of Deming and Brice was 
cunning and jealous, dissimulating and crafty, and 
she could not feel comfortable in such an atmosphere. 
She dreaded to have him at home; the sound of his 
voice startled and distressed her; but she bore it as 
well as she could, and sought her happiness with her 


2o8 Currents and Undercurrents. 

family and friends, and tried to lighten the lives of 
others who had burdens to carry as well as she. 

A man once started on the wrong road is liable to 
keep going farther and farther astray, and Brice fell a 
victim to the fascinations of another young woman. 
Miss Doming, whose lynx eyes could not he easily 
blinded, became aware of the fact, and her jealousy 
being aroused, she began to plot for his destruction 
after the precedent he had established. Then, too, 
she had always been jealous of Margaret, who held the 
position she desired, and whose high-toned ways she 
could not abide, and she was quite ready to see the wife 
disgraced and brought low. 

The girl made it so uncomfortable for Brice with 
her jealousies and antagonisms, that he was cross and 
surly, and had hard work to carry himself with any 
equanimity at home, though he still loved Margaret 
and wished to make everything smooth for her. But 
the avenger was at hand; Brice’s time had come; and 
one morning he was called upon by an officer of justice 
and apprehended in the name of the law for the crime 
of forgery, and taken off to jail. 

It was an entire surprise to him; but when he re- 
membered that he had had a serious quarrel with Miss 
Deming within a week, he knew what it meant and 
how impossible it was to escape from her vindictive- 
ness, unless he changed his tactics. Then he began to 
counterplot. An open break would be fatal; he could 
only win her over by deceiving her; but he was good at 
that. He procured bail at once, and immediately set to 
work to learn how much she had told. He bought a 


Brice in Business. 


209 


handsome set of diamonds and took them to her as a 
gift. The pair had a long interview, and he promised 
her a sum of money beyond her wildest dreams (know- 
ing he should never pay it) and promised to dismiss his 
other book-keeper who was the second love. He helped 
her to another situation, also giving her handsome 
jewels to fix the matter up. 

Then he and the Deming concocted a story of the 
charge being made for purposes of blackmail. They 
altered figures, and fixed accounts to prove his honesty, 
and because of his good standing in the community, he 
was acquitted. Then he took up the role of martyr. 
This all took place within a week, and most fortunately 
while Margaret was on a visit and shopping expedition 
to Hew York. She was so much occupied she did not 
look at the papers and failed to see it. When she 
reached home, Brice himself told her the story, with 
all necessary embellishments, holding himself up as a 
Christian martyr. 

It was, he said, because he was so prominent in 
philanthropic work in the town, and had won the ill 
will of some one whom he had thwarted in wrong 
doing. 

The unsuspecting wife accepted his version then; 
however, after-thought awakened her to further search 
into his private life outside of home. Her aversion to 
him was increasing, and she did not believe in his" 
innocence. She could not wholly conceal her distrust 
of him, and he was quick to perceive it. 

This galled him terribly, for there were many others 
in the community who were not backward in showing 


210 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


their distrust of him, and to have Margaret, of all 
others, suspicious of him (though she said nothing 
openly) made him cross and vindictive. She had been 
his anchor. But now that he felt that she knew him 
as he was, in her own mind, his conduct towards her 
was sullen and brutal; and he quite forsook his kindl}^ 
manners and seemed to make a point of irritating and 
annoying her in all possible ways. 

This was hard for her to bear, especially as she had 
no love for him to sustain her through such a trial. 
She still bore it as well as she could, but often gave 
a sharp answer to his unmanly sallies, and grew irrita- 
ble herself under the strain. Few of us are angels yet, 
and Margaret was very human. Brice’s home paradise 
was now changed to the opposite condition. He was 
much away and had all he could do to keep his place in 
society. 

The influence of the women he sought was debasing 
to him, and while keeping up a fair exterior, his inner 
life was a hell from which he had no escape or respite. 
Margaret found her life so unbearable that she threat- 
ened to go home to her father’s house, and Brice was 
brought to desperate straits. He was in a constant 
quarrel with Miss Deming who held a power over him 
that might any day be turned against him; and to add 
to all this, his financial affairs were going wrong, and 
the whole state of the case was most desperate. 

One gloomy day he sat alone in his private office try- 
ing to look the situation in the face. He contrasted 
the first two years of his married life when he was 
happy and his home life so pleasant, with the last two 


Brice in Business. 


211 


years of turmoil and strife. He tried to see how it 
all had come about. He analyzed all the causes that 
had led up to it and cursed the false ambition that 
had been at the bottom of it all. His mind seemed 
to be cleared for the purpose of this retrospection, and 
he saw plainly that all blame lay with himself. He 
was not only the ^^spider^^ but the that had been 
caught in the web of circumstances of his own weaving. 

His state of mind might perhaps be imagined but 
not described. He was in deepest dejection and gloom, 
and he resolved that as fast as he could he would work 
himself out of his trouble, forsake his evil ways, win 
Margaret back again and live a new life; and he de- 
cided to turn over a new leaf, be a man again and — 
Live ! 

His good resolutions did not last long. He could not 
overcome his natural inclination. He thought he knew 
his power, and was sure he could get out all right, and 
it would almost be impossible to break away from 
everything. As for Margaret, it was her own fault. 
If she was not so cross and unreasonable, he was sure 
he would be different. She was cold as an iceberg, and 
she held herself so high and so much better than other 
people — well, it was more fun to be with ^^the girls 
He did not care whether he was right or wrong, it was 
enough pleasanter. He did not remember that when 
he was living right, he found pleasure in his wife’s 
society. 

He now reasoned that what a wife was for, was to 
take care of the house and his clothes and look after 
her husband’s interests generally. That was what he 


212 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


married her for, and he would not spoil his pleasures 
for her. 

He had, however, given his soul a glimpse of him- 
self, and he knew it would hold him responsible. Soon 
some one came in, and he was plunged deep in business 
again. 

This visitor brought news that made Brice shiver, 
and he went out and made over his property to his 
wife, and kept his own counsel, for he saw disaster 
and ruin before him unless he could make some quick 
move to save himself. He did not intend to be left 
destitute if he had to give up his business and have 
nothing to begin a new life with. Fortunately for him 
the disaster was averted, and circumstances so shaped 
themselves that his affairs were soon in a better condi- 
tion than before. This gave him confidence in himself 
again and renewed his courage. 

He had become so lax in his methods of business he 
had quite overlooked the fact that there was any such 
thing as a law outside of his own desire. 

He had been reminded of it now, and he was likely 
to move with more caution. His great fear was Miss 
Deming; he was never sure what she would do next. 
She had grown more importunate, and now demanded 
money, threatening exposure if she did not get it. She 
had learned that the dismissal of the other book- 
keeper was only a blind to herself and she never trusted 
him, no matter what he said. He knew that her 
jealousy might lead her to any lengths and he was 
always uneasy about her. 

He was on his way home late one night, and in the 


Brice in Business. 


1213 


outskirts of the town, when a wild-eyed, red-faced man 
sprang out of the thicket, and, seizing him by the 
throat bore him to the ground. A desperate struggle 
ensued from which he finally succeeded in extricating 
himself, when his antagonist, panting and desperate, 
instead of renewing the attack, turned and ran, climb- 
ing the fence and fleeing across the fields towards a 
piece of dense woods. Brice watched him a few 
minutes, then finding no harm had come to him ex- 
cept torn and soiled clothing, he pursued his way home- 
ward, wondering what could have possessed the man, 
as he made no demand for money or anything else. 
He remembered that his face looked red and swollen 
and his hands felt hot as they clasped his throat, but 
he came to no conclusion about it and made haste to 
get home, and to conceal his encounter, and keep it 
to himself, as his whereabouts at that hour were 
better unknown. 

But after he had reached home, gone to his own 
room and to bed, he could not sleep. Those wild eyes 
were constantly before him and seemed to be pursuing 
him from every direction. And as he thought of the 
hands upon his throat, he was beset with terror. The 
more he thought of them, the more the horror of it 
grew on him. He had no sleep all night; all the next 
day the eyes followed him, and the next, and the next, 
for two whole weeks; at the end of which he was 
seized with a terrible illness in his office, and when the 
physician came he ordered him taken home and to the 
uppermost room in the house, and completely isolated, 
directing that everything not absolutely necessary be 


214 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


removed from the room. Margaret had been away 
from home three weeks. The physician insisted that 
she should not be sent for. 

The third day he knew what he had already sus- 
pected ; that it was a virulent case of smallpox. When 
he told Brice, the horrible eyes and bloated face of 
the man who assailed him appeared before him again, 
and he related his experience of the terrible encounter. 
Upon inquiry being made, it was found that a man who 
presented an unusual appearance had been seen wander- 
ing around for a day or two near where Brice met him 
and it was thought that some man who was suffering 
from that disease had wandered away in his delirium ; no 
one had been near enough to speak to him, and he 
was set down for a tramp and nothing thought of it. 
Subsequently, the body of a man was found in an un- 
frequented part of the woods, and it was supposed that 
the unknown had died there alone. 

Nurses were procured for Brice, and everything was 
done for his comfort, but the second week he grew 
worse and so violently insane that it was all the at- 
tendants could do to hold him or keep him in the 
room, as his one desire was to escape. He had not been 
willing Margaret should be sent for, but he called for 
her constantly, reproaching himself for his neglect of 
her, and living over his life with others, until his two 
listeners were horrified. His paroxysms were terrible, 
and his looks were loathsome in the extreme. He saw 
frightful shapes pursuing him, and his shrieks, as they 
seemed to him to catch and choke him, were appalling. 
Even the strong nerves of the nurses were shaken and 


Brice in Business. 


215 


tried to the utmost. He had to be bound to the bed, 
and he writhed and tore everything he could reach. 

One morning an unusually violent paroxysm seized 
him and he burst his bonds, and sprang at the throat of 
one of the attendants who would soon have breathed 
his last, but for timely assistance from his associate. 

The violence of the patient^s effort was too much 
for the overcharged brain, and the blood gushed from 
his mouth and nose and he dropped to the floor, dead, — 
a fit ending for so putrid a life. 

The nature of Brice’s disease had been kept a pro- 
found secret for obvious reasons. He was buried at 
night by the men who took care of him. The physician 
gave some reasonable explanation. The house was 
thoroughly disinfected, and after a time Mrs. Brice 
came home, but she never went to the house again. 


2i6 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


CHAPTEE XXI. 

Rena and Tom Married— Happiness.— Margaret at the 
Langleys’.— Andrew Married.— Margaret Settled in New 
York.— Gordon Returned.— Tells Margaret of His Love. 
—His Adventures.— A Drive.— Occultism. 

Rena and Tom were happily married, and at the 
earnest solicitations of the Stanleys they went to live 
with them. They mourned deeply for Corinne, hut 
they all adored Rena. She was so helpful and kind, 
so unselfish and sweet-tempered, and above all, so self- 
reliant. Corinne had been so different, they could not 
understand how so young a person could he what Rena 
was. 

She was entirely happy there, merry, full of good 
cheer, always ready with funny sayings and jokes, so 
that it quite metamorphosed the family and made her 
‘^queen of all she surveyed.^^ They all bowed down to 
her and worshipped, and Herbert often said if Tom 
had not married her, he should, for she belonged to 
the family. 

Mr. Langley sent for Margaret as soon as they 
learned of the death of her husband, in order to take 
her away from all reminders of so much sadness, for 
when Brice’s business affairs were settled, his whole 
career was laid hare and the town was filled with the 
scandal. Margaret, therefore, gladly accepted the in- 


Tom is Married. 


217 


vitation and turned her attention to forgetting as much 
as possible the four unhappy years Just past, but her 
retrospections showed what her dull misery had blinded 
her to, — the agonies she had suffered. 

After remaining some months at the Langleys^ they 
reluctantly yielded her to her aunt, with whom she 
took up her abode. Her uncle said, “How you have no 
excuse; you can stay with us as well as anywhere; it 
is not best for you to go back to Bington.^^ Andrew 
had married Miss Burns and they could console and 
care for the father and mother. 

Margaret had been some time in Hew York and was 
beginning to go a little into society and to feel like her 
former self and was able in a measure to forget the 
unhappy past. 

One morning a caller was announced who failed to 
send up his card, but gave his name to the servant so 
imperfectly he was not understood. Margaret went to 
the reception-room expecting to see some business per- 
son, and met the outstretched arms of Mr. Gordon. 
From his face she would not have known him. He 
was so bronzed and bearded and gray; he showed 
signs of much suffering and his youth had fled. 

Margaret was so surprised that her face blanched 
as white as snow. She reeled and would have fallen 
had he not caught her and led her to a seat. 

“Am I so frightful as that?” said he, laughing. “I 
knew I was much changed, but I did not think my 
friends would lose consciousness over it, else I would 
have sent my photograph before me. Am I so fright- 
ful?” 


2i8 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


no indeed,” said Margaret, it was so un- 
expected and I think I am changed, too, and am more 
sensitive to surprises than I used to be.” 

^^Yes, I suppose so. Five years give time for changes. 
We have both had experience in that time.” 

^^That is very true, but do tell me something about 
yourself, where you have been, and what you have seen 
in this long time.” 

"I have been in Africa and India mostly. Inciden- 
tally in my journeyings I have touched other countries. 
I have killed lions, cobras, and other fierce and wild 
animals and passed safely enough through many dan- 
gers and could not get killed and did not get hurt. 
This was in the first two years of my absence. After 
that I went to India and studied Occultism, about 
which I have much to tell you, if you will graciously 
extend to me the privilege. And now for yourself? 
I already know you have been married and lost your 
husband.” 

^^My life has been humdrum enough,” said Margaret, 
^Vith no adventure and little change, just an ordi- 
nary, tame, woman’s life, the exact opposite of yours. 
You have had freedom, adventure and change; I have 
been shut up with sameness and monotony. I have 
really nothing to tell, but I shall most gladly give you 
opportunity to relate to me your interesting experiences. 
It is next best to having adventure yourself to hear it 
related by some one who has had it. You will remain 
at home now?” 

‘^That depends entirely upon one person. Many 
months ago I was in a retreat of the ^Brotherhood’ 


Tom is Married. 


219 


in the Himalayas sitting peacefully under a tree within 
the walls when I heard a distant voice say, ^Go home at 
once. Your time has come.^ 

“I knew there was hut one time for me. I im- 
mediately packed the few things I had, bade the 
Brothers adieu and started for home. I arrived the 
day before yesterday, made some inquiries regard- 
ing my friends, tried to get myself a little into civilized 
trim, and have come to you this morning to tell you 
that my future fate is in your hands. 

“I loved you madly before I went away, notwith- 
standing my unmanly conduct. From the first 
moment my eyes rested upon you, you have been the 
one woman in the world for me. I abused the in- 
estimable privilege you bestowed upon me in giving 
me your society and friendship. I went to Bington 
to tell you so, and stayed three days in the town with 
you. I was frantic, almost insane, when I learned 
that you were engaged to the man you afterwards 
married.^^ 

Here followed a recital of his thrilling experience in 
the old Hew Hampshire village, and Margaret looked 
into his eyes and said, sadly, ^^Ho, I was not en- 
gaged. I had never once thought of the man I married 
in any other light than as my brother’s book-keeper 
at that time.’” 

Then Margaret poured out her story, eagerly, but 
sadly, and he, knowing occult lore, saw and under- 
stood it all. The constant suggestion, the steady 
magnetism of desire that had been brought to 
bear upon her unconscious mind, Brice’s subsequent 


220 Currents and Undercurrents. 

history, and everything connected with his untimely 
death, was graphically rehearsed. Then raising her 
eyes fondly, she said, ^^What a painful misunderstand- 
ing; for really, I never had thought of anyone hut you.^^ 
With the joy of these words George Gordon gathered 
her to himself as bountiful nature gathers her storm- 
tossed and spent child, promising to protect and serve 
her always for her priceless love. 

A week later found Mr. Gordon settled in his own 
house, all the paraphernalia of his four years abroad 
put away, and the New York millionaire in his right- 
ful place again. And we see him on this delightful 
morning driving up to Mr. Stanley’s door to take 
Margaret out for an airing; and as she came out in 
her widow’s weeds, it was hard to realize that she was 
the same woman who drove over the same route they 
were about to take, five years ago that very day. 

To say that she was less beautiful would not be true, 
but there were lines in her face and form that came 
from her sad life and never could be effaced. Her 
beauty was richer and rarer and riper, for she had 
earned for herself a strong, calm soul; a power had 
come to her through bitter experiences, through diffi- 
culties overcome, through conquering of weaknesses. 
She had unfolded into a firmer selfhood that nothing 
could wrest from her. She understood life and her- 
self better than of old, but still she realized how much 
there was to learn and to conquer. 

The fullness of Mr. Gordon’s experience can hardly 
be described. The first three years exhausted his 
purely animal nature. All the anger, the vindictive- 


Tom is Married. 


221 


ness, and malice in him came to the surface and burned 
itself out. The selfish cruelty in him was satiated in 
his pursuit and murder of the animals wilder and 
fiercer than himself. He had been at white heat, and 
the dross of his nature had burned away, leaving him 
purified and fitted for the calm studious life of the 
brotherhood. And when his soul had worked itself 
free, he was allowed to come home and begin life where 
he left off. 

His fruition was complete. He now had all his ex- 
perience, and Margaret besides. Who could have fore- 
seen on that day five years ago what would come to 
pass in both their lives ? And how strange, but 
however situated, each soul must pass through the 
experience peculiar to itself, burdened with all it can 
bear, in riches or poverty, among high or low, civilized 
or uncivilized, and the broader and deeper the nature, 
the stronger the trials, and the more there is to be 
overcome. 

They were talking in this vein as they rode along the 
smooth roads of Central Park, bringing out first one 
and then another of these truths and finding them- 
selves possessed of such a deep joy as compensated them 
for all they had suffered. 

Mr. Gordon questioned Margaret of her mental 
sensations when Brice was in pursuit of her, for he 
said: H have been studying this subject of hypnotism, 
and find it really appalling to think how we all live 
in such a mental network of infiuences from the minds 
of others. Not alone between members of families, or 
even lovers, but between people whose temperaments 


222 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


are ^en rapport/ and who draw upon us, and influence 
us entirely without knowledge on either side.” 

^^Do explain this subtle power to me,” said Margaret, 
am sure what you say is true, for I have had the 
same conflicting feelings. For a long time I never 
gave a thought to him who was by law my husband, 
except as a not over-agreeable man whom my brother 
employed, and who was because of that, always ready 
to serve me in any way he could. As I look back to 
it now, I think he was always disagreeable to me, 
and it was especially so to accept assistance from him, 
although I did not realize it then. 

‘^My thoughts were so full of you that I seemed lost 
to most things of every day life. I felt so far away, it 
was difficult for me to attend to my ordinary duties. 
I was like one in a dream.” 

^^Well, my own Margaret, I know now what I did not 
at all realize then, that quite unconsciously I was hold- 
ing you and drawing your soul to mine, and if I had 
known that you loved me instead of Brice, nothing he 
could have done would have had any effect on you, for 
the position of mutual love is impregnable. But I was 
a coward and most foolish. I supposed you loved him 
and had given me over to my own unbridled temper, 
so I voluntarily, but not willingly, relinquished you 
to him, while I loved you madly myself, — yes madly. 
You were the one strong desire of my life, as you were 
of his. I thought you cared nothing for me, and loved 
him. I did not wish to coerce you, even if I could have 
done so, but I did not then think I could; so I gave 
you up to him in a most weak and cowardly way, and 


Tom is Married. 


223 


left you to your fate. If I had understood the law, 
and my duty to you, I should have stayed to protect 
you from one, whom I believed a most unprincipled 
man. 

ought to have known that your fine nature would 
not have yielded to such a man except under the 
strongest mental coercion, and if you showed a leaning 
that way, it was all the more reason wh^ I should pro- 
tect you. No wonder you seemed in a dream! Many 
a woman of weaker character has gone insane with 
less reason. With his base mind drawing you one way, 
and my cowardly thoughts holding you another, no 
wonder that you suffered exquisite mental torture! 

^^But my darling, it is all over now. We have literally 
Vorked out our own salvation,^ and I hope have a 
long life in which to live out our allotted happiness.^’ 

^^But, George dear, do tell me more about this mental 
telepathy, or suggestion. What you say arouses so 
many questions in my mind. Is it always woman that 
is held in this way? Are men never so influenced?’’ 

^^Many a man is in an insane asylum for just this 
reason. Sometimes it comes from their own fickleness. 
Such a man ^flits from flower to flower’ enlisting the 
affections of a number of women each of whom clings 
to him, believing he loves her alone, each holding him 
to herself, each dwelling with loving, possessing 
thoughts upon him. It is very easy to see what would 
be the effect to a sensitive man. The counter-currents 
of magnetism sent from the different minds, drawing 
him first one way, then the other, and all keeping a 
firm hold upon him, according to the nature of their 


224 Currents and Undercurrents. 

desire. Can yon not see that the result must be dis- 
traction ? 

^^Then many an innocent man is pursued by some 
designing woman for mercenary or other purposes, and 
she holds him in the same way you were held if her 
mind is positive enough to dominate his. 

^^Members of families are constantly suggesting 
thought to each other, making each other well, or ill, 
happy or miserable, as the case may be, and scores of 
little children are ^don^t-ed’ to death. From morning 
till night it is ^DonH do this,’ or ^Don’t do that,’ ‘Don’t 
make a noise,’ ‘Don’t soil your dress,’ ‘Don’t go to the 
window, you will catch cold,’ ‘Don’t eat this or drink 
that, it will make you sick,’ ‘Don’t say that bad word,’ 
and so on through the whole vocabulary. The child 
hears nothing but ‘don’t’ until it is a grown man or 
woman. It is hampered and restricted in every way, 
and never has a chance to act its own natural self. I 
am speaking of the unnecessary ‘don’ts’. Of course a 
cFild must be governed, but not nagged forever, as 
many, perhaps most, of. them are.” 

“Do tell me one other thing, for since my own sad 
experience I have been led to observe other lives, and 
I find mine is far from being an isolated case. Why 
is it that when a man wrongs the woman he loves, or 
has loved, as soon as he has committed this wrong, he 
turns against the wife who is blameless and abuses 
her ?” 

“That is easily explained, dearest, when you know 
something of human nature. If a man wrongs an- 
other person, be it in matters of affection or in busi- 


Tom is Married. (22 j 

ness, or in any way, for his own aggrandizement, that 
little prodding thing we call conscience plunges its 
nettles into his mind and renders him most nncom- 
fortable. Now, no one likes to hear the pangs of self- 
reproach that prick as viciously as the villainies of his 
own wrong doing; for conscience is only the sum of 
our experience and education; and so the man sets 
about his own justification. There is no way to do this 
except to pick flaws in the one injured, and it is easy 
enough to misconstrue, and still more easy (if one is 
desiring to find the other party imperfect) to send 
irritating thoughts that shall induce hasty words, which 
are angrily answered, and thus breed the discontent 
desired. This allays the prickings of conscience in so 
far as it puts the other party in fault and passes his 
irritation over to the other. This kept up soon gives 
the sinner an easy conscience, and he pursues his in- 
iquity happily, throwing all the blame upon the in- 
jured and innocent.^^ 

^^Yes, I see clearly now, and I believe that was exact- 
ly my case. I did not love the man I called husband, 
but that was not my fault. I told him I did not love 
him before I consented to be his wife, but I did not 
feel as I did afterward, and I did not know, either, of 
his evil doings. At last I did come to hate him most 
cordially. I felt defrauded somehow, and I never 
could tell why. I did not know what caused me to 
feel that way, but now I see it all, and how strange it 
is ! It seems more like a fairy tale than the truth, but 
as soon as I hear it, I am sure it is true. It corre- 
sponds with what I know of life, but never could ex- 


226 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


plain. I think good women must have a great in- 
fluence in the world.” 

^^Yes, men carry the balance of power on the worldly 
plane, and through them comes what makes life pleas- 
ant to us here; hut woman^s intuition and tendencies 
toward the spiritual draw men away from pure self- 
ness towards the flnal perfect state.” 

^^This explains what has always been a mystery to 
me, and what most women feel to he a great injustice. 
Why woman has had it laid upon her that she should 
be high and pure, while it is man’s prerogative to pull 
her down from her high place by any arts and wiles in 
his power, — she, too, the weaker sex, — and what is 
worse, he assails her through the highest, holiest, and 
at the same time, the weakest part, which is her love 
nature, and with his greater physical powers which 
generate stronger magnetic force and gives greater 
power to his suggestion, his victim yields. Then there 
is a great hue and cry the world over, that she has 
fallen. She loses cast, is hooted out of society, and 
generally condemned by the very ones who plot her 
ruin. 

^‘All races of men have set up a different standard 
of morals for women and they make no difference 
whether woman falls through compulsion or from a 
depraved nature; the purer she is the greater must be 
her suffering.” 

^^Alas! Can it be true that the race must be 
spiritualized through the strife and sufferings of 
woman’s soul?” 

‘^But dearest, I am coming to think this must be 


Tom is Married. 


Q27 


true; that through her constant efforts here to deserve 
her rightful place, through her constant failures and 
remorse, her drafts upon the power of Spirit to sustain 
her, must come the final redemption of the race. 

‘^Yes, my love, woman is the magnet that draws to 
earth the spirit vibrations; were there no strong at- 
tractive power, no need, no intense desire, the uni- 
versal power of Spirit would go elsewhere and be drawn 
away from us by a stronger power, or desire. Woman 
looks to God, and man looks to woman, forgetting that 
her life on this plane has its needs. Do you not see 
the true idea is, man always seeks the innermost of 
woman^s nature, he does not know why, he does not 
understand that it is this very spiritual part he is in 
search of? His great desire is to possess all that she 
is, and in his blindness he thinks it is the personal 
life he wants, but really, it is his soul seeking strength 
through hers. This mistake has been made by man- 
kind through his ignorance of spiritual truth, — the 
Soul which everyone knows is, but no one can find. It 
is the soul hunger that we are all starving for, not 
physical enjoyments. 

^^Oh, if we could but understand! If we could see 
the object of life to be the education and development 
of the Soul, which is the child of the union of Spirit 
and Matter, — the self-consciousness, — and work to 
that end instead of blundering along as we do, what a 
different world it would be! 

^‘We are learning, though. It is something to know 
it has been seen by even a few. Thought travels fast, 
and the seed from the planting of one idea is immense. 
Let us hope. God is with us.^^ 


228 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


of public opinion for her sake, and she told him they 
must relinquish the idea. 

He sympathized with her entirely, and could not 
blame her, but it involved so much, he did not see his 
way. He did not wish to subject her to the snubs of 
society; and, shall we tell what he would never confess ? 
He secretly did not wish to leave the door open for her 
escape. She was so much to him, his life was bound 
up in hers; he knew he loved her alone and always 
should; but he had been a man like unto other men so 
long he feared himself. Men look upon life different 
from women ; what to a woman is a very serious matter, 
is to a man only a passing pleasure, and he might forget 
himself. He knew her experience having opened her 
eyes, it had made her suspicious, and her intuitions 
were so keen he feared some trouble might arise that 
would arouse some suspicion in her mind, that with 
her promptness of action, and direction of purpose, 
might deprive him of her. But to his honor be it said, 
he berated himself for such selfishness, and determined 
to gratify her if it was possible. And he knew that 
while she loved him fondly and exclusively, she felt 
such an absolute terror when she contemplated her 
former life, she could not yield. 

She had told him what agonies, terrible indeed, she 
had suffered, when her former husband grew so despica- 
ble and hateful to her, that there was no way of es- 
cape except through the publicity of the divorce court. 

He could not ask it of her; and upon the whole, he 
thought her sense of freedom would fortify her 


Mr. Gordon Returns. 


229 


She regarded a truly monogamous marriage as the 
one desideratum of happiness; but with the double 
standard of morals for men and women, with her 
knowledge that at the present stage of the world’s ad- 
vancement, such a marriage was the exception rather 
than the rule, she believed that until men understood 
that their present standards and methods only took 
them farther and farther from the goal of their earth- 
ly existence, which is happiness, it was not safe for 
her, and she dare not commit herself again to live 
a lie before the world if she were put in a position that 
should make it seem necessary. How could she be 
sure the same troubles would not come up to her again 
that had come at first? 

Then arrayed against this vein of things was all the 
worldly side; her friends, position in the world, the 
exclusion from society, and the experiences she knew 
would follow. 

To brave public opinion as she knew she would have 
to in any marriage outside of the law, even if in a mar- 
riage under the law divorce should follow with no 
end of scandal, and all the evils attending it, she knew 
it would be considered by “Mrs. Grundy” preferable 
to a union of true hearts from which the possibility 
of all this publicity was eliminated. 

The more she thought about it, the more decided 
she was that she could never take that step again. 
She must have a marriage in which love alone should 
be the bond, and from which she could quietly escape, 
if she found it desirable, or none at all. 

She would not ask Mr. Gordon to make such sacrifice 


230 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


CHAPTEE XXII. 

Mr. Gordon Impatient— Margaret Makes Difficulties.— Dis- 
cussion of Ways and Means. — Wedding. — Travel. — 
Home.— Children.— Happiness and Harmony. 

Mr. Gordon was getting impatient to have Margaret 
to himself. He had lived alone much too long; his 
palatial mansion needed a mistress ; he wished to intro- 
duce his peerless Margaret to society — to his dear five 
hundred friends; hut most of all he wanted her com- 
panionship, her delightful presence. 

A new, and to him unexpected, difficulty, however, 
arose, Margaret’s old aversion to marriage asserting 
itself strongly again. How could she help distrusting 
man? Had she not had experience? Her married 
life had been bitter, indeed, death would be preferable 
to such another experience. What could she do ? She 
loved Mr. Gordon and respected him more than any 
other man, more than herself, but what would be harm- 
ful to herself, would also be harmful for him. How 
could they be sure their experience had been sufficient to 
ensure them a safe and healthful life, for inharmony is 
not healthful or soul filling, and as through their former 
experience they had learned the object and aim of life, 
they could do no less than profit by what they had 
learned. How could she tie herself by any huamn law 
to conditions that would tend to destroy the good of 
what had already been learned? 


Mr. Gordon Returns. 


231 


patience, and she might really give him a better chance 
in case any trouble should arise. Yet he would do 
what he could to convince her. 

At their next interview, he said, “My dear Margaret, 
are you sure you fully understand what it will mean 
to you to break away from the customs of society 

“I have thought it over from every side, and am 
fully convinced that with a clear conscience, and a 
clear sense of my right to do what seems best for us, 
I can meet what comes. If our love is the true article, 
there is no need of other bond than we shall lay upon 
ourselves. If it is not, there is only sin and misery 
in the perpetuation of the relations belonging to it.” 

“Yes, it is all right for us, but the world will say we 
are transgressing the laws of good society. I know 
that the civil law has in some states sanctioned such a 
connubial life, hut Society, my dear. Society!” 

“I think I can bear it. My life belongs first to me, 
and then to society. I do not advocate anything for 
any one but myself and the man I love. Let others 
look to themselves. I have studied your temperament 
and my own and have used the best Judgment I have. 
Let others do the same. 

“I fully realize there are shadows ahead, but let us 
take the first right step, and the ‘Ked Sea’ of our diffi- 
culties will be parted for our passage through.” 

“Margaret, you are a charming woman, and I love 
you fondly. I am surprised at the thought you have 
given the subject. I expect that is the way with you 
women; you do a “power 0’ thinking” in your quiet 


232 Currents and Undercurrents. 

way that no one suspects you of. We will find some 
way to carry out your ideas, but still, there is that 
bugbear, society, and its prejudices.^^ 

know it, I know it, and it is the hardest part by 
far. I should not mind for myself, but for you, I do. 
Your position in society, your family name, your own 
prejudices ought not to be laid aside for my sum of 
experiences. I fully realize this, but I cannot over- 
come my feelings on the subject and I do not know 
what is best to be done. I suppose we must live as we 
are.” 

^^Yo, Margaret! a thousand times no! I will not 
listen to that for a moment; and yet I will not coerce 
you. Some way must be found. My name, family or 
prejudices, are as nothing to that. I will not have it 
so. Let me think of it till to-morrow, meanwhile 1 
pray you, exercise your woman’s ingenuity to devise a 
way. I presume to say you have already a plan that 
would make everything smooth.” 

^‘If I had, I should not think it right to propose it, 
because I, not you, demur to the present mode. It is 
your prerogative to devise the way.” 

‘^Well, if I must, I must, but do at least give me the 
benefit of your mental suggestion to which I am so 
susceptible. Keally, I do not think you can help that, 
and that is all the hope I have of getting my befogged 
brain to work out a solution of our difficulty.” And as 
he pressed his lips to hers, he felt that society or no 
society, nothing should ever separate them. 

As the door closed behind him, Margaret threw her- 
self on a couch, feeling as though her very life was 


Mr. Gordon Returns. 


233 


drawn from her, and was soon in a profound slumber. 
Her lover was drawing from her mind the details of 
the plan already perfected there. 

Two days had passed before Mr. Gordon presented 
himself to Margaret. He found it very difficult to 
solve this problem. He had shut himself up in ^^The 
Silence” and sent to his far away brotherhood, his 
message for assistance. To find a happy medium be- 
tween the opinions of those friends he did not wish to 
grieve, and Margaret’s quite natural feelings, was not 
an easy task, and he resolved that not even by sug- 
gestion should she be disturbed; for so true and con- 
scientious a nature as hers would not feel as positive 
as she did, unless there were some deeper reason than 
just her own life experiences, and he was sure she must 
be truly guided by the Spirit. 

Many difficulties accompanied every plan for the mar- 
riage under these new conditions. 

His first thought, and the one that appealed to him 
the strongest was, that after sitting in ^‘The Silence” 
of their own thoughts and of the invisible hosts that 
surrounded them, they should with clasped hands, agree 
to live together and love each other as long as the 
spirit of harmony abode with them; and with no wit- 
ness but the ^‘Most High” and their own exalted 
thoughts pronounce themselves wedded. Then they 
would start for the Continental tour they had con- 
templated. This he saw would be the most agreeable 
way to themselves. Yet he also saw that through the 
known laws of Spiritual Science, that ^^As it is in the 
unseen, so it must be in the seen,” if they desired 


234 Currents and Undercurrents. 

the attendance of their unseen friends they must pro- 
vide some way for their expression on the plane of our 
physical vision. And he decided to invite their friends 
and prepare for a gorgeous wedding at which no ex- 
pense should he spared. He wished to express the 
spiritual scene which was before him as well as he 
could. Then in his own house with his best friends 
about him, he would state to both assemblages their 
belief in their right to a free marriage, and promise to 
live together as long as there was love and harmony 
between them. 

He laid his plan before Margaret who was delighted 
with it, because, she said, ^^My dear love, it is sub- 
stantially the plan I had in mind.’^ 

Immediate preparations were made and hastened as 
much as possible. Margaret spared no expense in her 
trousseau, and everything was on the grandest scale. 
The house was remodeled and redecorated, and an ad- 
ditional corps of servants hired for the occasion. 
Everything art, culture and abundant means could do 
was done. Precious mementos of Mr. Gordon’s travels 
abroad were produced, and the house was made a model 
of good taste, elegance and splendor. 

Margaret’s bridal robe was a gorgeous, white brocade, 
so heavy it would bear its own weight, with flowers em- 
broidered upon it in gold thread and precious stones. 
Her jewels were most rare, and sent by an Eastern 
Prince; her veil was a filmy web of old lace, that had 
been in the Gordon family for generations. Under a 
canopy of silks and gold, with a profusion of ferns and 
flowers, stood the peerless Margaret and her noble 


Mr. Gordon Returns. 


235 

lover. Soft music was heard in the distance, and the 
murmur of voices was hushed as Mr. Gordon spoke. 

^^Dear friends: My beloved Margaret and myself, 
learning from experience in our own lives, and from 
observation of the lives of others, and from the Living 
Spirit within us and that pervades all, that Love is a 
thing Divine, and individual love of consequence only 
to the individuals who possess it, and believing that 
love will not he fettered or held in bondage, hut must 
he left to its own sweet Will, we now announce to you 
our intention of living together in closest companion- 
ship, with no bond uniting or binding us, except this 
Divine bond of Love, which shall sustain us as we hope, 
during the rest of our natural lives. But if through 
the vicissitudes of our earthly career, we change in our 
feeling toward each other, we claim the right to 
separate, and to do with our lives whatever seems right 
and best for us, without interference by any but the 
Great Spirit who directs us.” With a hand clasp and 
a sacred kiss he greeted Margaret and stepped out 
among their friends, who, breathless with amazement at 
such new departure, now crowded around them offering 
congratulations and comments. No hint had escaped 
to apprise the guests of what was to take place. 

We must leave the reader to imagine what followed, 
as things went on in much the same order as is usual 
at weddings, and the chatterings and gossip were de- 
layed until after the festivities were over. But the 
reader can well imagine that the affair furnished food 
for excitement in the blase circles of the ^^five hundred” 
and furnished also many an item for the greedy news- 


236 Currents and Undercurrents. 

papers, and went on its errand around the world. All 
unusual occurrences must take that trip whether the 
actors will or no. 

What came of it ? Mr. Gordon and his best beloved 
friend sailed the next day upon an extended European 
tour and left the matter to he tossed to and fro from 
mind to mind until it was worn out. After a year 
abroad, the couple returned to their home, harmonious 
and happy. 

Two children have been added to their household, 
and their love has broadened and grows more and more 
restful and delicious as time passes on, to them all. 
The word Home means harmony and happiness, and as 
I think of them now with the memory of their beauti- 
ful lives freshened by the writing of these pages, I 
recall these lines of Helen Clarissa Von Ranklar: 

“Two souls in sweet accord 
Each for each caring and each self unheard, 

Bringing life’s discords into perfect tune, 

Free to their feelings and to nature living. 

Plighting in faith nor needing proof nor proving. 
Taking for granted, never asking, giving. 

Not doubting and not fearing how, or where. 

Not caring if less bright or fair ; 

Sure to be ever loved and ever sure of loving. ” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


Mrs. Benton and Flora.— Mrs. Benton 111.— Herbert Comes. 
—Mrs. Benton Falls Asleep.— Murmurs Her Love.— 
Awakes in Convulsions.— Death.— Flora Goes to the 
Langleys’.— Herbert Proposes.— Family Blessing.— Tom 
and Rena in Their Home.— Herbert and Flora Married. 
—Tom and Rena Find the Cave with Little Corinne. 

Time has not stayed its course with Mr. Langley. 
His home has been very happy. Rena and Tom are 
still living with them, but are beginning to talk of a 
home of their own. The luckless lady whom Herbert 
saved from her villainous captors, was provided with 
a lucrative situation, and proved herself to be a person 
of refinement and culture, as well as of a gentle and 
lovable nature. 

Xot long since, her father had died, before which, 
he repented of his harshness and left his property to his 
wife and daughter. Jointly. Mrs. Benton and her love- 
ly daughter, who had grown into young womanhood, 
went home to live with her mother, making frequent 
visits to the Langleys’ in response to a mutual attach- 
ment that would not be broken. 

After a few months, Mrs. Benton’s mother followed 
her father into the Hereafter, and she and Flora were 
left alone. 

The trials of her early life had so worn upon Mrs. 

237 


238 Currents and Undercurrents. 

Benton, that now they were left to themselves, and 
Flora’s education was finished,- she fell into a decline. 
She could hardly be said to be ill, but she was languid, 
and shunned exercise, quite contrary to her usual 
custom. She kept her bed late in the morning, and 
had little appetite, and as she laughingly said, took on 
the airs of an invalid. Flora finally became anxious, 
as she grew worse rather than better, and wrote to her 
friends, the Langleys, her anxiety for her mother, 
asking that some of them come to see what they thought 
of her condition, and if anything could be done for 
her, as she, herself was so inexperienced, and her mother 
made light of the situation and would not call a 
physician. 

Herbert seemed to be the only one that could leave 
home just at that time and in his peregrinations among 
the poor, he had come to be quite skilled in sickness, 
quite a doctor in fact, and he answered Flora’s 
summons. 

Mrs. Benton and Flora were delighted to see him and 
made much of him. He remained with them several 
days studying the invalid, and doing his best to amuse 
and entertain her. She was well enough to drive and 
go sailing, or do almost anything that did not require 
exertion, and they enjoyed themselves very much. 

Herbert was surprised to note the improvement in 
Flora, who had always been ‘fiittle Flora” to him; for 
none of the family had realized that she was so near 
womanhood; they loved and petted her as a child, and 
did not wish it otherwise. Herbert had not seen her 
for a year as she had been away at school, and since 


Mrs. Benton and Flora. I39 

her graduation, had been confined to her grandmother 
and mother. 

The changes through which she had passed, and her 
anxiety for her mother who was all she had’^m the 
world, had matured her, and she had taken on a 
womanliness that was pleasant to see. She was very 
charming, as Herbert fully realized. 

Mrs. Benton seemed very happy the first few days 
of Herbert's visit, and much better. She watched him 
closely and seemed to he studying him; hut after a little 
she drooped again, and aroused anew all their anxious 
fears. 

On the fifth day of his visit she was suddenly at- 
tacked with spasms, and the hastily summoned physic- 
ian confided to Herbert that there was serious trouble 
of the heart from which she would hardly recover; yet, 
under careful management she might live for some 
time. He, however, remained through the night and 
her condition in the morning not being favorable, a 
nurse was sent for, and two very anxious days were 
spent in the most watchful care. 

On the morning of the third day she desired Flora 
and the nurse to take some rest, and Herbert sat with 
her. He was close beside her when she seemed to fall 
asleep. He was holding her hand in hopes to impart 
some of his own strength to her. After a while she 
began to murmur to herself in snatches, and he stooped 
to catch what she was saying. — ^^Oh Herbert! light of 
my life! — You do not see — that my heart is breaking — • 
for you — 0! the years — I — have — loved — you! Since 
the night — ^you saved me — from those dreadful men — 


240 


Currents and Undercurrents. 


Alas! you did not see — my devotion! yon did not 
know — I was dying for — ^you! — I could not — live for 
you! — You did not — ^need me — ! I have loved you — 
in silence — dear — It made me very — happy! — ^but I 
could not always — ^bear it — I shall have to — die! I 
had rather die! — but Flora!! — what will — ^become — of 
her — ! — all alone. — Oh God — take care — of her — 
And soon she awoke with another sudden start and 
went into a spasm that lasted hours. At last she was 
quiet and conscious. She motioned Herbert to come 
nearer, and between struggles for breath asked him to 
look after Flora. ^^She has no friend.^^ He assured 
her with all tenderness that he would. She faintly 
pressed his hand, closed her eyes, and with one con- 
vulsive shudder, ceased to breathe. 

To Flora who knew so little about sickness, the 
sudden death was terrible. She was totally unpre- 
pared, and clung frantically to her mother’s form and 
would not be comforted. At last Herbert gently, but 
firmly, lifted her in his arms and bore her away. 

A telegram soon brought Rena and Mrs. Stanley, and 
to them the young man gave the stricken girl, and as 
soon as possible went away by himself to think over 
the sad revelation that had been made to him. 

He saw how natural it was that Mrs. Benton should 
have loved one who had saved her from a dreadful fate, 
and the effect his own illness for her sake, as she 
thought, must have had on her, and he thought tender- 
ly of the woman who had given her life for love of him. 
The knowledge came too late for him to make her any 


Mrs. Benton and Flora. 


241 

amends; he could only faithfully fulfill his promise 
to care for Flora. 

The funeral of Mrs. Benton being over, they insisted 
upon taking Flora home with them, for to leave her 
alone was not to be thought of. She seemed a legacy 
to them and they would not part with her. 

As time passed, her grief was somewhat assuaged, 
and life again began to take on color for her. Nothing 
was left undone to console her in her loneliness and 
Herbert was especially devoted to her. 

For the first time in his life his attention was at- 
tracted to a woman. He had been so engrossed in 
business and philanthrophy, he had not thought of 
love for himself; hut with the feeling of sadness at 
Mrs. Benton^s fate, came the thought of what might 
have been if he had not been so much occupied in other 
lines. She was a very lovable woman, and he felt sure 
now could have made him happy if he had only known. 
He brooded over it much, and as Tom and Kena felt 
they must live by themselves for obvious reasons, he 
determined if Flora could love him, to ask her to be his 
wife. 

The auspicious day came at last when he laid his 
noble and manly love at her feet. It was a great sur- 
prise to Flora, but as she afterwards told him, she could 
not remember the time when she had not loved him. 
Her surprise was soon turned to joy, and with his arm 
encircling her waist, he led her exultantly for the 
family blessing. 

Great was the joy of all for they already loved her, 
and although Eena’s place in the family could not be 


14 ^ Currents and Undercurrents. 

filled, it would be delightful to have the young life in 
the house permanently. There was in due time an- 
other wedding and great rejoicing, and Herbert's love 
now that he was awakened was overwhelming; and 
Flora reaped what her mother had sown. 

Tom had built a house not far from the Langleys, 
and he and Eena were installed as housekeepers before 
Herbert’s marriage. They were proud and happy in 
their new home, and in due time the melodious voice 
of a young stranger echoed within its walls, and Tom’s 
joy was complete. 

Mother and babe throve, and Eena with the honors 
and cares of motherhood upon her, was dearer to him 
than ever before. And at last when Eena finally 
learned the secret of the ^^Lovers’ Cave” in the moun- 
tains, Tom was with her, and he carried on his shoulder 
the crowing little girl Corinne, with her chubby hands 
tightly clenched in his hair, and her lively feet beating 
a tattoo to the music of their laughter. 








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